


Slip and Slide

by Living_Free



Series: Slip and Slide [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bruce is "dead", Crack, Damian is very mad, Depression, Dick is very emotional, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Jason can be a good brother, Jason is forced to care, Recovery, Tim is very sad, batbros, batfamily, but he mostly sticks around for the drama, but what else is new, giggles, yeah whatever DC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2018-12-22 22:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11975934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: Battle for the Cowl AUBruce is dead*.The cowl has uncemoniously been dumped on Dick Grayson, who is kind of preoccupied with the fact that he now has a very small, very angry, Legacy-obsessed, Damian Wayne to take care of.As per usual, Jason is not helping.Tim is Sad, and is dabbling in the the treacherous waters of teenage dating, leading a superhero team, and running a company.It's up to the voices of reason (mainly Alfred) to make sure that the family does not crumble under the shadow of the Bat.*If you believe that after all the nonsense D.C. has pulled, there is no hope for you.





	1. Chapter 1

A huge shoutout to my beta, [komadoriwonder](http://komadoriwonder.tumblr.com), for making this jumble of words ingot he smoothly flowing story that it is. She can be found in her azure eyed beauty on tumblr and on ao3 under the same name!

I am on tumblr as [kindaangelic](http://kindaangelic.tumblr.com).

Please feel free to leave comments, and enjoy!

* * *

 

Dick sat at the Batcomputer, looking blankly at the screen. In just a few days, everything had gone to heck.

He had to refrain from swearing now, he had to be a role model for a small child. Dick battled with the voices wrestling for control in his mind. The voice commonly known as Dark!Dick, who had credits such as Discowing and the Ponytail, whispered warnings of the demon child’s true nature. At the same time, Normal!Dick refuted this. No, Damian was a child - a good hearted child with immense potential. He was trying at best, and downright murderous at worst, but Dick would help him work through that. Robin would help put the boy on the right path.

Or at least he hoped it would. Dick certainly hoped so, seeing as he had been forced to wrest the job away from Tim to give it to Damian. Tim hadn't forgiven him yet, and what with Damian’s package of difficulties, Dick was beginning to wonder if he had made the wrong choice.

Thinking of Tim, Dick felt a deep sadness grip his heart. He remembered his brother’s choked voice, desperate to hide his tears, as he railed at Dick for taking what he had worked so hard to earn. Dick had offered Nightwing to Tim, but was rejected out of hand.

“I don't take charity,” Tim had spat venomously, glaring at Dick and Damian, who was standing to the side, a smug look sliding off of his face. He hadn't seen Tim since, the boy having taken to hiding in his room. He wouldn't come down to meals and wouldn't even open the door, in spite of Dick’s pleading, in spite of Alfred’s gentle persuasions.

Dick sighed and stood up, feeling resignation seep into his bones. Regardless of how he felt, of Tim’s self-isolation, the show had to go on. Gotham needed Batman out there to keep the peace. Dick took the cowl into his hands, and stared into the empty eyeholes.

“I hope you're happy, wherever you are,” he muttered. “God knows you never were when you were here.”

He pulled the cowl over his face, and looked into the mirror to see Batman, risen once more.

And his uglier twin brother.

Dick spun around and gaped at the second Batman. This one had a bulky suit, and a metal plate across his mouth. Jagged, harsh edges, unforgiving eyes, and...a gun.

“Jason,” Dick sighed heavily, “what are you doing?”

Jason’s muffled voice came through the mask in metallic slurs, and Dick frowned at him in incomprehension.

“ _What_?”

Jason glared at him and removed the mouth plate.

“You don't know what Gotham needs, Dick,” he said authoritatively. “I know the streets. I know that these scumbags need to be put away for good for Gotham to ever stand a chance of being safe.”

Dick stared at his brother in disbelief. “So you're going to shoot them like rabid dogs. Tell me Jay, how long will it take people to figure out that Batman’s changed once you bring your guns out? How long till they think that things are really that hopeless, that they made Gotham’s hero crack?”

“It's not about image, Dickhead, it's about-“

Jason continued to angst on about how unforgiving a mistress Gotham was, but Dick’s keen hearing picked up the faint sound of footsteps, and the hissing of the doors leading out of the cave. With panther like reflexes, Dick sprung into action.

“Oh, no. No you don't!” Dick cried, putting up a finger to silence Jason and stomp towards the exit. He returned a minute later, pulling another, smaller, Batman by the ear tip. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Tim glared at Dick and freed himself from his hold. “While you two were bickering like an old married couple, Gotham needed a Batman out there. So I'm going to fulfill that calling.”

Jason and Dick looked at Tim in shock, and then at each other. After a solid minute, they both broke out in chuckles and guffaws.

“What!?” Tim demanded angrily.

“Oh, Tim,” Dick said, smiling softly and reached out, only for Tim to sidestep his hand.

“I don't, but thanks for the laugh,” Jason chortled. “Seriously, though. You think people aren't going to notice that Batman’s shrunk a foot and a half and is a squeaky, zit-faced, teenager?”

Tim, who had clear, porcelain skin and was not that short, wrestled out of Dick’s hold.

“You took Robin from me!” he seethed. “You took it from me, and left me with nothing! I had to earn Robin, and I can earn the mantle of Batman! I was the one who helped him when he was wallowing in depression after Jason! I was the one who stood by him when he was being stupid and ridiculous! I was the one who bore his anger and nonsense for no reason other than not being Jason! I fought with him! I-”

Tim was cut off suddenly as Jason caught him in a chokehold.

“Your fighting style is too different. You're not physically as strong as you need to be. You're still growing. Your body hasn't matured yet. You probably still get spontaneous boners. In short, YOU’RE. TOO. YOUNG,” Jason concluded. “And if you keep talking, I'm going to pound you into the ground.”

“I'd like to see you try, Angst Sack,” Tim spat, and threw Jason over his shoulder.

“Why you little-“

“STOP!” Dick cried. “STOP IT!”

Jason and Tim pulled apart from each other, and looked at Dick.

“We’re supposed to be a family! We’re supposed to be brothers!” Dick stressed. “We should be supporting each other, not...not this!”

“Listen, Dickhead-“

“No, you listen. This is ridiculous!” Dick cried, his eyes blurring with angry tears that he wiped away roughly. “Bruce is dead! Our dad is dead, and he has a bunch of stupid last wishes that he came up with from his emotionally constipated brain and we’re supposed to honor that. Because ultimately, he wanted to keep us safe in his own twisted, confusing, way!”

He wanted Batman to continue on. He wanted you to get therapy, Jason. He wanted Tim to take over the business, because he's been doing it for years now, anyway. And...and I have Damian. I have a child now,” Dick continued softly, disbelief carrying through his frustration. “I have a small, angry, traumatized, child that I love with all my heart, and who is hiding up the dinosaur’s secret butt hatch thinking that I don't know where he is, while knowing full well that he should be getting ready for bed!”

  
Dick’s voice had grown louder as he finished, and the three stood in the silence, looking towards the giant animatronic shadow. There was a clicking noise from the dinosaur’s rectum, and Damian came tumbling out, looking flustered and angry.

“I thought that I was going out with you tonight,” he said sourly.

“No, not after you called Tim a peasant. I grounded you for two nights, remember?” Dick said sternly.

Damian scowled and began to remove his gloves, muttering angrily. Tim looked a bit shocked at Dick’s outburst. While it was well known that the eldest Bat was the most emotive, there had never been a breakdown on quite this scale. Usually, Dick’s sentiments were expressed via copious hugs, lack of personal space, and incessant text messages.

Jason looked slightly taken aback, but at the same time was adamant in not conceding that he was a part of the group. You couldn't give an inch to people like Dick - they'd just grab it and reel you into their cesspit of emotions.

“Listen, Dick, I don't care about this stupid family,” Jason interrupted. “I care that there are kids that are getting hooked on drugs, getting exploited, and getting fucking sold in this shithole of a city because Batman wasn't doing enough. I'm going to solve the problem for good, and if I have to trample on Bruce's ‘legacy’ and ‘wishes’ then so be it!”

Dick gave a thin sob and covered his mouth with his hands, and sank down into the chair, feeling defeated. Tim hesitated, but patted Dick on the back gently. Jason didn't even have time to react before Damian was on him, scratching and spitting venom at him for dishonouring his Father and his guardian.

“That is quite enough, Master Damian, Master Jason,” Alfred’s voice cut through the havoc. Silence descended in the cave as Alfred came up to Dick and helped wipe his face. “There now, control yourself, my boy.”

“Master Jason,” Alfred said sternly, gesturing to the spare seat beside Dick. Jason sat, cowed into obeying the elderly butler. “Master Richard has a tremendous load on his shoulders. Your father- do not interrupt me!”

The butler stood there, his admonishing voice echoing into the cave and stared straight at Jason, to whom the words had been directed. Jason swallowed his denials and looked down at the cave floor darkly as Alfred continued.

“Your father, knowingly or unknowingly, placed great burdens on each of you. I have held my tongue too long, and watched the boy I raised become bitter and hollowed out by the abuses of this lifestyle. I will not have it happen to my grandchildren. We will honor Master Bruce’s wishes, but we will be smart about it.”

Master Richard,” he said gently, coaxing Dick to look up, “you cannot carry the mantle of the Bat alone. I have seen what it does, and I won't let it extinguish the light within you. You crafted Nightwing with such zeal, and he cannot be lost in the effort to keep Batman alive. Nightwing will continue to live alongside the Bat, and for that, you must split your duties with Master Jason.”

“Booyah!”

“Booyah indeed,” Alfred said testily. “Master Jason, you must realize that Batman absolutely cannot kill. That means no guns while donning the cape and cowl.” Jason scowled, but did not refute the order. “You may, however, continue to be the Red Hood as well, just as Master Richard will continue with Nightwing.”

“Master Timothy,” Alfred said, addressing the second oldest boy, “I agree wholeheartedly with your brothers that you may not go out as Batman. Your shenanigans will end in a blood pressure that would baffle medics. is that what you want?”

Tim looked horrified and shook his head.

“Quite. I strongly suggest that you use this time to develop your own persona. Explore yourself, see what you stand for. You have long outgrown being Batman’s little assistant, and it is time you explored what Timothy Drake does best at fighting evil.”

“Establishing spy networks for industrial espionage and crime fighting, crippling technological strikes, and bo staff fighting techniques?”

“That would be a good start,” Alfred agreed hesitantly, balking at the mention of established spy networks.

“You have spy networks?” Jason asked.

“If I told you, I'd have to kill you,” Tim responded. And Jason wasn't absolutely sure whether he was joking or telling the truth.

  
“Tt.”

“Master Damian,” Alfred said, and the boy winced at his tone. “You must learn to control your vile temper. Attempting to murder your brother, talking down to Richard, and insulting Jason are strictly prohibited and are offenses punishable by one hour of household chores and removal from patrol. Is that clear?”

“But Pennyworth!”

Alfred simply raised an imperious eyebrow in silence, and Damian backed down. “Talking back to me is an offense punishable by precisely one kiss from Master Richard.”

“What!”

“Master Richard, if you would,” Alfred said unforgivingly.

Dick scooped Damian up and pressed a big kiss to his pudgy cheek, leaving the boy spluttering incoherently.

“How-what-no one has dared to make me suffer such indignity before!” Damian cried angrily.

Alfred retained his stoic face, but felt his heart clench at the thought of this little boy being denied open affection his entire life. It was just as well that Master Richard was such a cuddle bug.

“Master Jason, I have arranged for your first therapy session to take place at four in the evening tomorrow-“

“This is bullshit-!”

“-with me, over a nice pot of tea and biscuits.”

“Ooooh, I feel emotional pain and the urge to communicate,” Jason said eagerly. Alfred smirked as Tim and Damian rolled their eyes.

“Any transgressions or meanness will result in the fixed penalty of one hug from Master Richard lasting for a duration of thirty seconds,” Alfred said firmly, drawing a range of moans from them and a single grin. “Now. I believe that Gotham needs it’s Batman, Master Richard. Master Jason, please take that disaster off and help your brother. Master Timothy, to the drawing board, and Master Damian, I have a bowl of ice cream for a special young man.”

“Frozen milk fat, my favorite. Is it pistachio flavored?” Damian asked.

Alfred felt that familiar tug on his heartstrings and guided Damian out.

“Yes it is,” he affirmed. “It most certainly is.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick cries.
> 
> Jason tries.
> 
> Tim is somehow the cause of both phenomena.

A huge shoutout to my raven haired, emerald eyed (I'm guessing, my eyes have not been graced by her beauty) beta, [komadoriwonder](http://komadoriwonder.tumblr.com), for making this jumble of words the smoothly flowing story that it is. Go scream her praises on her tumblr!

I am on tumblr as [kindaangelic](http://kindaangelic.tumblr.com). Any screaming would be a boon. 

* * *

 

“Okay, so you get Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays as Batman, and I get the rest,” Dick said with a sense of finality as Jason leaned back in his chair, seemingly relieved to be done with the logistics side of things. “The other days, we will continue as Nightwing and Red Hood respectively. Now, we have to determine who gets Damian-“

“Not it.”

Dick looked pointedly at Jason and stood to put up the new schedule on the wall of the cave. “Ok, so I’ll tell Barbara and that'll be that. I get to keep Dami, and we split Batman. What about Timmy?”

“I don't mind the stinkweed, I can patrol with him. What's he going by now?”

“I don't know,” Dick sighed heavily. “He's still mad at me, he hasn't spoken to me in weeks. Maybe you can get through to him.”

“Yes, he’ll totally open up to the man who attempted to abduct and kill him to get back at our shared mentor. I'm the perfect candidate, Dick.”

Dick looked woebegone and sank into an armchair. “I just want him to forgive me. I mean, I know that I hurt him, but the circumstances left me with little choice. I had to push Damian into being Robin. It's the only way I can keep the ten-year-old murder-baby from going off the rails!”

“So you let your other kid, who is plagued by depression and daddy issues, to flounder alone in Gotham. God, Dick, even I know that you don't leave highly intelligent and unstable, hormonal, acne-ridden teens running around this city without supervision. It's like you're just begging for another kid to end up dead.”

Dick looked horrified. “Depression!?”

“Of course,” Jason snorted. “As a previous connoisseur of the condition myself, I can tell that the Replacement is sipping from the same cup as I once did.”

“Oh, Jay...” Dick breathed. “I didn't know. How...did you get better?”

“I beat Bruce up a lot. I mean, like, a LOT. It was cathartic. I blew shit up with Roy. I slept with Roy. I'm still sleeping with Roy. I bought a hamster. Basically, I did a lot of stuff that I liked. Also, I take a couple of pills.”

“Jason!”

“Relax, I know what I'm doing, featherbrain,” Jason scoffed. “Alfie knows a guy, he referred me. Also, before you ask, no, he's not based in Arkham. I guess being separated from my murderer was actually good for my mental health. Who’da thunk it?”

And now Dick was crying again. Brilliant. Jason looked around nervously for the new brat, who was Dick’s new self-appointed guardian demonling, and saw that he was safe.

“Crying won't help your kid brother’s soul crushing depression,” Jason advised sagely.

More tears. Man, Alfie had made it seem to easy.

“We need to talk to Tim,” Dick mumbled thickly, wiping his nose. “I need to apologize to him fully, and help him see that we still love him just as much.”

“Yeah, do that thing! Wait, we? Dick, there is no ‘we’ in this. There's you and - ok, ok, I'm coming,” Jason said hastily as Dick gnashed his teeth and glared at him with his red, teary, eyes. “God, you nearly made me shit myself,” he muttered as he followed his older brother upstairs.

“Timmy?” Dick called timidly, knocking on Tim’s door. “Timmy? Can we come in please?”

After several seconds of silence, Jason made to turn on his heel, saying, “Welp, he's not here. We tried, I'm leaving,” but backtracked when Dick threw him the most terrifying glare Jason had ever witnessed in his life. “Oh, you know what, I changed my mind and am fully invested in this. Let's jimmy the door open and go in.”

One picked lock later, Dick and Jason were standing inside The Area That Was Previously Known As A Habitable Room. There were clothes strewn everywhere, and tech paraphernalia littered the ground. The only pristine things were the photo frames, which held pictures of Tim posing with Bruce (awkwardly), Kon-El (far too cozily), and Dick (sweetly). Jason allowed Dick to cry some more over the picture, and set about violating Tim’s privacy, digging through his belongings.

After several moments, Dick was jerked back from his misery when Jason shouted angrily, and shoved a photo album under his nose.

“Look!” he shrieked, shaking the album underneath Dick’s nose, “that little creep! He's been stalking us since forever! Look, “Batman and Robin take to the skies”, “Batman and Robin save Drake Heir”, “Robin stuns Gotham by Rounding Up Two-Face and Scarecrow in One Night!” and pictures! The little stalker’s been following the both of us since the very beginning!”

Dick stared at the pictures and newspaper clippings, a myriad of emotions flashing across his face. He breathed deeply, several times, and burst into tears once more.

“Those had better be tears of anger, Dick, I swear...”

“Sweet Timmy!”

“Ugh.”

“What's this?” Dick said, as his movement dislodged another flurry of papers. “Letters. Oh, Timmy has a pen pal, that's cute. He's made friends with...R’as Al Ghul!?” Dick tore open the most recent of the correspondences and read it out loud as Jason leaned over his shoulder.

_“My Dearest Timothy,_

_Your wit and ruthless intellect have the entire League collectively lusting after you. We thank you for the assistance you gave us in the past month and hope that you will reconsider my proposal._

_I would love to have such a sharp mind disguised by such soft features and youth to rule by my side. Together we would bring the world to its knees._

_Yours Reverently,_

_R’as Al Ghul_  
The Demon’s Head  
Leader of the League of Assassins.”

“Damn,” Jason whistled. “That explains Timbo’s spy network. He's been in bed with the League, and probably has his own network from his work with them.”

“Don't say that!” Dick snapped, beating Jason repeatedly with the letter. “He’s just a boy! He's not been in bed with anything other than a teddy bear!”

“That he lovingly named R’as-OWOWOW!”

“His name is Boos, actually,” a cold voice said from the doorway. “Bruce gave him to me for my third birthday, and I've had him ever since. But you would know that, what with your snooping around my room.”

“Timmy!” Dick cried, jumping up. “It's not what it looks like!”

“So you weren't violating my privacy, trust, and sanctuary?”

“We were worried!” Dick said defensively. “Jason told me that you were having a hard time, and that you were depressed. I felt guilty and wanted to apologize to you, and help you.” He reached out and gripped Tim’s forearm, which he felt tense up beneath the layers upon layers of sweatshirts, “I never wanted things to get this bad. We need to reaffirm that you belong here, with us, with your family. Isn't that right, Jason?”

“...Your teddy bear is named after Bruce. The teddy bear is on your pillow. You sleep with it.”

“Jason!”

“Dick, stop,” Tim sighed, shaking his arm off. “First of all, you need to read my reply to R’as.”

Jason tore into another envelope and read,

_“R’as you Cradle Robbing Creep,_

_Leave me alone. I briefly led the League of Assassins to ensure that there would be no power vacuum in your absence. Also, if you actually treated your spies like people, they wouldn't be so quick to defect to me._

_I have Coffee Fridays. I know what each of my spies’ favorite flavor of ice cream is._

_Think about it._

_Signed_ ,

_Tim._

_PS- Don't contact me with your pervy letters anymore. You're an evil, old, gremlin, and I already have a boyfriend.”_

Dick gave a weak laugh and made to draw Tim into a hug, which the boy dodged expertly. “Oh thank God, thank God,” he mumbled into his hands. “I was so scared, I thought that we were going to lose you.”

“It wouldn't have mattered,” Tim muttered, “I'm obsolete anyway.”

“You're not some piece of machinery, Tim, you're my brother!” Dick shouted. “I love you like I love Jason, and Damian, and Cass! You guys mean the world to me!”

“Ah, so that's why you were so quick to replace me with the same sadistic gnome that tried to kill me,” Tim said sarcastically. “I've been showing love all wrong! I should have known!”

“Alright, that's enough,” Jason sighed. “Listen, you're angry and slighted, and I get it. I've been there. Also, I should probably apologize for trying to kill you in a fit of Pit madness, that was shitty of me.”

“We’re fine,” Tim said. “I didn't expect much of you, I didn't exactly grow up with your loving and doting presence to buoy me through the roughest times in my life, only to be discarded when a newer, shinier, kid came along.”

“Ow. Yeah,” Jason said, flinching. “That hurt. We should have coffee and bond over that neglect sometime. But come on, man. Bruce saddled Dick with fatherhood and Batman practically overnight. And it wasn't like it was an angelic cherub of a baby, either - it was freaking Damian “stay still while I slice you into ribbons” Al Ghul. Dick messed up big time, I get it. But give him a chance to make it up to you, and if he messes up, you can totally become my sidekick. How does Maroon Hoodie sound as a name?”

“It sucks ass,” Tim said bluntly, “but thanks. I might take you up on it if I'm truly that pathetically desperate.”

“So...we can try again?” Dick asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I guess,” Tim said warily. “I just...need some time.”

“Of course, little brother,” Dick said softly. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

Tim gulped, words flying through his brain, but never reaching his lips. I could never not love you. You are my idol. I need you to listen to me… but what came out was: “I want us to try again.”

“And we will,” Dick promised earnestly. “We will. We’ll get you help for your depression and coffee addiction. We’ll make a whole new, stronger, bond.”

“It's not an addiction.”

“Baby steps, Timmy,” Dick laughed, “baby steps.”

\-----------

“Master Timothy is going to come down in his new uniform, and I expect nothing but encouragement and kindness, is that clear?” Alfred addressed the gathered Batlings as they stood in the cold, clammy darkness of the Cave.

“Of course!”

“I have a camera. Let's see how that little stalker likes it when the tables are turned!”

“Tt.”

“I hope it makes his butt look big,” Stephanie muttered. When Alfred looked at her curiously, she seethed, “He told me that purple highlighted my “unnaturally wide hips!” And we were supposed to be dating at the time!”

Jason guffawed loudly as Damian observed, “You look like an overstuffed eggplant at the best of times, Brown. Perhaps you should learn to see criticism in a constructive manner and shed some of your mass.”

There was no time for Stephanie to reply, though, as Tim came sailing in with his new red and black outfit, a utility belt crossing his chest. He twirled around and looked expectantly at his friends and family. “What do you think?”

Stephanie was the first to react. “You look brilliant! Damnit!”

“Um...thanks?”

“Clearly, you've inherited my superior fashion sense,” Jason said smugly, clearly approving of the copious amounts of red.

“Mendelian Inheritance doesn't work that way, Todd! Clearly, not even living with the Batman himself was able to override your inherent stupidity.”

“Punishment for Master Damian,” Alfred announced.

“No!”

“Yay!” Dick cried, and scooped Damian up into a thirty second hug that Damian fought every second of. “I like it Timmy!”

“Thanks. Kon liked it too.”

“Ok, I changed my mind,” Dick said, suddenly taciturn.

“I thought you liked Kon,” Tim remarked, surprised.

“Tim, Bruce told me something when I was your age, and in his absence, I'm going to pass his words on to you - all men are dogs, and they don't deserve you.”

“Right. But you dated Roy Harper,” Tim pointed out. “He's never been Bruce’s favorite.”

“I quite agree,” Alfred sniffed. “He is too exuberant and explosive, and cusses far too much. I am hesitant to approve of anyone related to Oliver Queen and his cronies.” Jason suddenly looked too nonchalant, whistling and looking away, the very picture of guilt. “We will be having words, Master Jason,” Alfred said warningly, and Jason groaned.

“Boyfriend aside, I think it's a decent outfit,” Jason said. “But the position of Maroon Hoodie’s still out there, if you're ever interested.”

“Yeah, no. Can we go out now, please?” Tim asked, walking past the group. As he passed, Stephanie, Barbara, and Helena all tittered, prompting Dick to glare at them and ask,

“Timmy, do you have a cape?”

“Um...”

“Wear a cape.”

“Really? I thought I could do without it. Kon said I looked nice-“

“WEAR. A. CAPE. TIMMY,” Dick said, gnashing his teeth.

“Holy crap, you were right,” Tim said, looking at Jason, “he's scary when he does that.” Tim hastened to put on a cowl and cape and led the way out into the night, eager to give Gotham’s villains reason to shit their pants once more.

\--------

Tim watched triumphantly as Scarecrow and Joker were led away by the authorities, bruises from being repeatedly hit by his bo staff already coloring nicely.

“Wait! Wait! I gotta-“ Red Hood jogged up to the cop holding the Joker and delivered a vicious backhand to the clown’s face. “Okay, I'm done.”

Under the cowl, Dick rolled his eyes dragged Jason away. Tim made to follow them, but was stopped by none other than Vicki Vale. “A double whammy for Gotham’s newest Robin graduate! What’s your name, hero?”

Tim hesitated for a second and looked at his family, and felt a bolt of inspiration hit him. “Red.” Jason punched the air gleefully. “They call me Red Robin,” he said, and spun on his heel dramatically and jumped into the batmobile.

The entire ride home, he put up with Jason’s smugness, Dick’s pride and amusement, and Damian hissing and spitting about “clinging onto my rightful persona, Drake, you lizard!” Tim just leaned back, enjoying the feeling of being his own man.

Maybe this family wasn't so bad after all. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of school! 
> 
> Damian enters the education system. 
> 
> Tim reveals his nudist tendencies.

 

 

Once again, I would like to swoon over my beta, [komadoriwonder](http://komadoriwonder.tumblr.com), who is an editing beast. Click the link and visit her on tumblr!

Come and yell at me at [kindaangelic](http://kindaangelic.tumblr.com) on tumblr! Any yelling is cherished!

* * *

 

The air in the manor was uncharacteristically cheerful. If one were to look closely enough (it is never advised), they would detect a hint of savage humor in the general cheer as well. Predictably, the savagery stemmed from Jason, who was revelling in the sight of his younger brothers in their school uniforms - Tim for the last time, and Damian for the first time.

Alfred had put his foot down and insisted that Tim write his high school equivalency exams and start taking college courses while running Wayne Enterprises. “Education is not something I am willing to compromise on, Master Timothy,” he had said firmly. “I have scheduled your equivalency tests with Gotham Academy for September 1st, and you will find that I have left pamphlets for correspondence degrees at Gotham University beside the coffee pot.”

And so, Tim found himself wearing his Gotham Academy uniform for the last time in his life, sitting at the kitchen table next to Damian, who was just starting school. They were both dressed in the requisite navy blue sweater over a white collar shirt, dark navy shorts, white socks that came up to the knee, and black shoes. Dick was clearly having the time of his life, and was making anime eyes at his brothers over hashbrowns and sausages.

“Come on boys, first and last day of school!” Dick trilled, jumping up and bundling his brothers towards the Mom CarTM. Bruce kept precisely one dark green, family size sedan amongst his collection of sports cars. One day, Bruce had looked at his collection of children, realized that he was a family man, sold his soul, and had brought the car. He'd promptly given Dick the keys, and stuck a bumper sticker that read “Proud Mother of Demons”. Said car was now used to ferry the minor Waynes to and from school.

Dick whistled merrily as he drove his brothers across the smoggy, grey, concrete landscape that was Gotham in all her beauty, while Damian pouted in his uniform.

“I have accumulated enough knowledge to get doctoral degrees in several fields! This “school” is demeaning!”

Tim studiously ignored Damian. “Dick, remember to go to the board meeting today, ok? Check up with R&D about the prototype microlaser that I gave them the designs for. If Luthor calls, be sassy, and threaten a merger. It's not a bluff, I have the paperwork. And-“

“Relax, Tim,” Dick interrupted lightly, “It's only for one day. You'll be back running the company tomorrow.”

“Rome was destroyed in a day, Dick!”

“That is a myth, Drake!” Damian cried. “Grayson, why am I forced to endure this broken education system when Drake clearly needs it more? I should be running Wayne Enterprises, as Father’s blood son-“

“Oh my god, not this again. You're a twisted little elf, and no one loves you!” Tim spat angrily.

“Grayson loves me, he says so repeatedly! Not that I need anyone’s love, of course, but his worship is noted and appreciated.”

The vitriolic banter a continued on until Dick pulled up to the school. He let the boys out and watched them disembark, still spitting insults at one another. Just as they were hitching their backpacks onto their shoulders, Dick felt a pang of sadness. It should have been Bruce doing this - seeing his sons off on their first day of school, in their little uniforms with their knobbly knees showing. He should have been the one to make sure that their bags were packed, that their hair was just right, and kiss them goodbye in the parking lot, embarrassing them in front of their friends.

But he was gone. Dick felt cold and very alone at that moment, fighting tears and memories of Bruce peering at him anxiously from the gates as Dick walked up the stairs to attend his first day of school. He plastered on a smile as Tim waved goodbye and stomped up the steps to Gotham Academy with all the authority of a CEO, and disappear inside to embarrass the inadequate school system that couldn't keep up with him.

This left Damian and Dick, the former adjusting his backpack and looking upset at the thought of mingling with his peers for a day. Dick felt a surge of affection for this pouty, murderous, child of Bruce’s and tapped Damian on the head.

“What, Grayson?”

“C’mere,” Dick said. “I gotta give you a goodbye kiss.”

“Nonsense! What ridiculous act of unrestrained affection is this!?”

“Oh, you didn't know?” Dick asked with mock surprise. “It's tradition. If your guardian kisses you goodbye before school, you're guaranteed happiness and good will for the rest of the day.”

“What complete horse manure. I have never-GRAYSON!” Damian squeaked as Dick pressed a light kiss to his cheek. “Ick! Ick!” Damian danced around, wiping his cheek as Dick chortled happily.

“There. Now you can go and seize the day, Little D.”

“I always seize what I want,” Damian grumbled, stalking away.

No sooner than Damian had gotten out of the carpark than Dick saw an older child come up to him. “Haw haw, your daddy kisses you goodbye dur dur dur!” Dick frowned and was ready to go and diffuse the situation when Damian burst into action, grabbing the kid by the front of his shirt and pulling the offender down to eye level.

“If I ever hear you speak of Grayson again, I will slice your fish lips from your ignoramous face and feed them to rabid hounds!” Damian released the whimpering boy, who turned heel and ran into the school. “That's right! Flee, flee as quick as your legs can carry you, for I shall dog your footsteps with sinister intent for the rest of your days!” Damian gave a booming, evil, laugh and stalked inside the school, ready to squish all those in his path.

Dick watched Damian until the doors had closed, his heart feeling light and airy at the thought that Damian had defended him. Feeling confident that Damian could hold his own against the terrors that ten year olds could inflict, Dick whistled a merry tune and drove to Wayne Enterprises.

He had a merger and a sassy phone call to make.

\------------

Dick drove back into the school parking lot that afternoon, a smile on his lips. There were few things more fulfilling than hearing Lex Luthor spluttering over the phone at losing to the Waynes. Dick pulled up, and waited for Tim and Damian to slink into the car. Tim closed the door, groaned, and immediately started to shimmy out of his uniform.

“Drake!” Damian shrieked, “cease your improper shedding!”

“Shut up, brat. I don't have to wear this shit anymore, and I'm not spending another second in it. The rate you're going, you’ll be out of a uniform too.”

“Tim, Dami, be nice,” Dick chastised. “What did you mean, Tim?”

“Damian got called to the principal’s office. Apparently, he threatened a group of sophomores with a painful death involving their “innards raining around their hollowed out corpses”.”

“They deserve to be boiled alive in Satan’s cauldron!” Damian shrieked.

“Oh my god.”

Dick pulled up to Wayne Manor somberly, and watched Tim streak across the lawn, dispersing his articles of clothing as he went. Damian followed, stomping up the stairs and into the kitchen, where Alfred and Jason were watching, horrified, as Tim brewed a pot of coffee in nothing but his briefs.

“Master Timothy, please dress appropriately! You are at risk of getting burns!”

“Oh my god, you're an outie!”

“Disgusting, Drake! How the League of Assassins lust over your puny body, I will never understand!”

Dick shook his head in resignation as Tim guzzled his freshly brewed coffee, and turned to face Damian. “Would you care to explain why you made death threats to your peers today?”

“No. Pennyworth, I would like to have the carrot sticks with the curdled milk fat please.” Alfred nodded and placed carrot sticks and sour cream in front of Damian, who dug into them with gusto.

Dick sighed and slumped into the armchair as Damian demolished his carrot sticks and ran down to the Batcave to train. He looked heavenwards and smiled ruefully. This is your son, Bruce, he thought. Why on Earth did I think that this would be easy?

Dick followed Damian into the Batcave, trailed by Jason and Tim, who were looking unnecessarily gleeful. He found Damian viciously hacking at a dummy that looked disturbingly like Red Robin. “Damian, if you don't tell me why you were called to the principal’s office, I'm assigning you to patrol with Tim for a week.”

Damian gaped at Dick. “You wouldn't!” When it was clear that Dick was not going to budge, Damian cried out angrily, dropped his sword, and made to run away, but was caught around the waist by Dick. “I shouldn't have bothered trying to protect your honor! I try to honor my Father and his family, and this is the thanks I get!?”

Dick carried a thrashing Damian over to the chair, plopped him down, and kneeled down to be at eye level with him. “Damian, what do you mean?”

Damian bit his lip and crossed his arms petulantly. “They were besmirching your honour!” He cried furiously. “Those lumbering fools were saying that you and Father were engaged in illicit relations, and that you were a- a sucrose child!”

Dick sighed. “Oh, Damian...”

“If only they knew! Richard Grayson is the successor to Batman! Todd, do as I bid,” Damian said, turning to Jason, who looked affronted, “And restore the family’s honor by eliminating those vapid gasbladders!”

Dick took Damian’s tiny head in his hands and turned it towards himself. “Damian,” he said seriously, causing him to quiet instantly. “Thank you.”

Damian looked surprised, but stayed silent. “Thank you for defending me,” Dick said again. “That was very good of you, and I'm lucky to have you as my little brother. Can I give you a hug?”

“Fine,” Damian allowed, “but only one!” Dick smiled and drew Damian into a hug, pressing a tiny kiss to his temple before releasing him. “Don't think I didn't notice that,” Damian groused.

Dick smiled. “You were right to do what you did, and I'm going to talk to your principal tomorrow. Bullying cannot be tolerated, and I'm glad that you handled it in a way that no one was hurt. You showed restraint, but you also shut the situation down. You thought like Robin, and I'm very proud of you.”

Damian tried and failed to mask the shock on his face, resulting in him looking like an actual child for the first time since his arrival. It was so adorable that Dick couldn't resist booping noses with him. Damian blushed a brilliant crimson, hissed, and quickly slithered back into his lair, not to be seen again till they left for patrol.

After Damian had retreated, Dick turned to Jason and Tim. “I didn't think raising a child would be so difficult. Is it wrong of me to want to just...keep him here? Keep him with me? I mean, I'm practically a stay-at-home dad. I could homeschool him, train him, spend more time with him...”

“Dick,” Jason sighed, and clapped a hand on his shoulder, “I never thought that I'd be the voice of reason-“

“Oh, wow.”

“-but get a grip. You can't protect him from everything. He's gotta learn that the world can hurt him in more ways than just what happens at night. Damian’s a strong kid, he can take it.”

“He's happiest when he's out there,” Tim added. “He was so proud that he protected your honour at school, you know? He was practically glowing when he came out of the principal’s office, strutting like a king. Just...let him know that you're on his side.”

“I'm always on his side,” Dick said. “I'm on our side. Our family’s side.”

“Yeah, when you say family, I don't really-“

“DON’T. RUIN. THE. MOMENT. JASON,” Dick gritted out, looking slightly manic, as he drew Tim and Jason into a group hug.

Jason fell in line, slightly terrified, and shared the sentiment with Tim. It was scary, it was crazy, but it was family. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian is scared.
> 
> Roy is thinking of starting a family. 
> 
> Somehow, Jason is an integral part of both of these situations.

This has been betad by the most divine [komadoriwonder](http://komadoriwonder.tumblr.com)! Shower her with praises!

Also, you can feel free to come and point at me on tumblr, at [kindaangelic](http://kindaangelic.tumblr.com)

* * *

 

Jason was woken from his dreamless slumber to the feeling of soft hands slapping his arm.

“Mmm...Roy...”

“Yeah, Jay?” Roy mumbled sleepily from the other side of the bed.

Well, shit.

Jason sprang up with a shout, waking Roy as they both fell into attack positions. He threw a punch, only to have it blocked by the mystery figure. Said figure then clambered onto the bed with a telling “-tt-” and started crawling towards the pillows. Jason bit down a frustrated scream and flicked on the lights to illuminate his ramshackle bedroom in an abandoned house which contained only a dilapidated bed, his hamster’s cage, his Roy, and now, Damian.

“What the hell, you little creep!” Jason screamed as he tried desperately to cover his and Roy’s exposed bodies. “What are you doing here!?” As the fog of sleep lifted, Jason began to process what Damian’s presence in his house could mean. “Is-is everyone okay?” He choked out.

In the meantime, Damian had helped himself to a pillow and was crawling off of the bed. “Tt. Everyone is fine, with the exception of Drake, who is always sickly.”

Jason grabbed Damian and dragged him over by his upper arm. “Then why did you break in?” He demanded, shaking Damian slightly. “Do you know what goes through my mind when I find one of you here? Nothing good, I'll tell you that much!”

“Jason,” Roy interrupted softly. “Let him speak. Kid, why'd you come here?”

Damian looked calmly at Roy, freeing his arm from Jason’s hold. “To sleep,” he said simply, raising his pilfered pillow. “I shall be resting on your poor excuse of a sofa. Sleep well, and do not let the insects that inhabit your mattress eat you.”

Jason muffled a scream of frustration. “No! You don't barge into my room, make me worry, and then take my pillow! Why are you here!?”

Damian looked angrily up at Jason and then blushed, finally mumbling something at his toes.

“Speak up, brat,” Jason growled.

Damian made a pained face. “The Manor is haunted!” He burst out, sounding flustered.

His declaration was followed by pindrop silence, and then the howling sounds of Roy and Jason laughing uproariously. “You-you think the Manor is haunted?” Jason wheezed. “You believe in Casper the friendly ghost!”

“Don't be ridiculous, Todd!” Damian yelled. “You know perfectly well that there are supernatural forces in the universe! Why is it beyond the limited range of your understanding that the Manor could house these spirits?”

Jason took several deep breaths and collected himself. “Okay,” he said hoarsely. “Why, exactly, do you think that the Manor is haunted?”

Damian hesitated, fidgeting for a moment before answering, “I have felt disturbances when I sleep. My hair is ruffled, and I feel light touches on my face. I think...” Damian gulped, looking embarrassed and upset with himself for feeling so, “I think that Father is haunting me from the great beyond!”

Jason couldn't bring himself to laugh at the desperate and clearly upset child in front of him, missing his dead father whom he had idolized his entire life. Instead, he fought back his laughter and instead, sighed, and dropped his head in defeat. “Alright. You can stay here tonight, though I doubt that Bruce is haunting you. If anything, his spirit would be nagging Dick, telling him all the things he's doing wrong as Batman.”

“You share Batman with Grayson,” Damian pointed out. “Why would Father not haunt you as well?”

“Because I have an anti-Bruce Bullshit aura. It picks up on and deflects his nonsense within a five mile radius,” Jason said proudly. “Now go on, get to bed. I'll shoot Dick a message that you're here.”

Damian waddled off to the couch and left Jason and Roy to giggle about his childish fears. “I gotta text Dick,” Jason snickered, pulling out his phone. “Let's go back to bed.”

His duty done, Jason snuggled back up to Roy, eager to forget about the paranoid little ghoul currently inhabiting his sofa.

\-----------

Jason felt consciousness return before he opened his eyes, and smiled. He loved this time of the day. Everything was relaxed, lazy, and he had the option of lounging in bed without the burden of putting on the cowl till hours later. Early morning was the time when he could just be Jason, and do the things that Jason liked.

Cuddling up to Roy, for example.

He couldn't really do that as Batman. They'd tried, but Roy felt uncomfortable, associating the suit with Bruce, telling Jason about his discomfort as Jason was putting the moves on him. After that, the suit had remained in the cave, and Jason went home with the crawly feeling of Bruce cooties - Bruties, if you will - on his skin.

But back to the point.

Jason was currently in bed, free of Bruties, and there was a willing and available Roy next to him. With that happy thought, Jason reached out and pulled his boyfriend close, anticipating the delicious feeling of Roy’s silky, sleep-warmed skin along the full length of his own body.

Instead, the warmth stopped at about mid-thigh, leaving his legs cold and unloved. Jason whined at the lack of contact, and received a testy “Tt” in response. His eyes shot open to reveal an angry, sleepy, Damian in his arms, and an amused Roy on the far side of the bed.

“What the hell, you little gerbil, why are you in bed with us!?” Jason screeched.

“Your sofa collapsed during the night,” Damian informed him sleepily. “Seeing as there was no other place available, Harper put me here.”

Jason turned betrayed eyes to Roy, who had the audacity to snicker. “It was kinda cute, seeing you and him like that. You'd make a great dad, Jay.”

Jason groaned and turned to the alarm, which flashed the time at him gleefully. “Five fucking thirty in the bleeding morning? It's way too early for this talk, Roy,” Jason whined, flopping back onto the bed. “Give me another hour.”

“I agree,” Damian piped up. “I need to be fully alert if we are to discuss my future nephew or niece. We shall wake again at six thirty. In the meantime, Todd, put on a shirt. Your chest hair is making me itchy.”

Jason gaped as Damian fell asleep again, looking like a tiny vampire between himself and Roy. “Is he for real?” Jason whispered to a silently giggling Roy. “I blame you for this,” he said, pointing to his lover. “Jezebel!”

Roy’s body shook with the force of containing his laughter as Jason purposely did not put on a shirt, instead reaching over to put his hairy arm against Damian, who frowned and fidgeted in his sleep.

Jason grinned at the growly child in between himself and Roy and felt a new kind of peace come over him.

Maybe Roy was onto something.

\----------

The next morning found Damian passing judgement on Jason’s cooking - “Inadequate and repulsive, Todd!” - and playing with Jason’s pet hamster, Red Rodent. After a solid hour of having his lifestyle belittled by the uppity leprechaun, Jason grabbed Damian, tossed him on his motorbike, and sped off to Wayne Manor as Roy waved goodbye from the front door.

It would have been perfectly domestic, if it hadn't been for Damian hissing and spitting venom while clinging to Jason’s back.

A long, long, ride later, saw Jason parked at Wayne Manor, and flinging Damian into Dick’s waiting arms.

“Thanks for looking after him and bringing him home, Jay,” Dick gushed, setting Damian down. “Dami,” he said, turning his worried face to the little imp, “why'd you run away? You know that you can tell me about anything that's bothering you.”

Damian deflated at seeing Dick’s blatant worry. “I...I did not want to scare you with my concerns,” he admitted.

“So scaring me was your alternative!?” Jason cried incredulously.

“Damian, what happened? Why are you scared? This is your home, there’s nowhere safer than Wayne Manor. Your Father made sure of that,” Dick soothed him.

“Yes, and now Father is the one making it unsafe!” Damian cried. “I can feel his spirit haunting me as I sleep! I can feel his hands on my face, and feel his breath as he leans down to watch me sleep! We must put his spirit to rest, or he will continue to haunt this place forevermore!”

Dick kneeled down and placed both his hands on Damian’s shoulders to steady the panicking child. “Damian,” he said carefully, “that wasn't Bruce. It was me.”

“What?” Damian asked weakly.

“The hands on your head and the breathing? That was me. I come in at night to check on you, and sometimes I give you a little pat or a peck goodnight. I’m so sorry, I didn't know that you were awake,” Dick elaborated, sounding remorseful yet barely holding back his own amusement.

It was too much for poor Damian. “It was you?” Dick nodded. “It was not Father’s angry spirit haunting me to get me to avenge his untimely passing?”

“I'm afraid not, Dami,” Dick said kindly.

Damian looked stunned for a moment, but then flushed angrily. “You see the problems your unrestrained affections have caused?” He cried, pointing accusingly at Dick. “You had me burning sage in my room!”

“Oh, so that was what the smell was,” Tim said, puttering in to the find the source of the commotion. “I thought that it was just your true demonic odor.”

“Dami,” Dick said, pulling Damian back as he was about to leap at Tim, “listen to me. I'm sure that Bruce is still with us-“

“AAGH!”

“-and he's looking down upon us. He's probably up there, sitting on a cloud with a little, black, harp and bat wings, watching over his family. He's never going to truly leave us - the ones we love never do.”

Damian clicked his tongue again, but refused to meet anyone's eyes. “Tt. Cease your emotional drivel, Grayson,” he said thickly. In response, Dick grinned softly and pulled Damian into a hug, and somehow managed to hold on to the squawking, indignant, demon child long enough to console him into a series of sad “tt”s.

The scene was too emotionally charged for Jason, who made to beat a quick escape to the kitchen, but was stopped as Dick pulled him into a hug next. “I will shoot you, Dick!” Jason growled, but Dick only hummed.

“Thank you for looking after Damian,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, whatever. It's not like I'd put him out in the cold,” Jason said, shrugging Dick’s arms off. “Can we go and eat now? The brat’s uppitiness put me off of breakfast,” he said, walking briskly towards the kitchen, Dick in tow.

No one noticed that Tim had drifted over to the Wayne family portrait, and was gazing up at Bruce’s stern patrician pose that in reality, he had broken repeatedly to stop Damian from running away, and to smile indulgently at Cassandra trying not to eat her lipstick.

“The ones we love never truly leave us,” Tim said, echoing Dick.

He smiled.

“We just have to find them.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s take your erstwhile usurper to work day!
> 
> aka Take your Brother to Work Day for Damian and Tim

Shoutout to [komadoriwonder](http://komadoriwonder.tumblr.com), my most darling beta! Go peek at her tumblr!

While you’re at it, come and pop by my tumblr too - [kindaangelic](http://kindaangelic.tumblr.com)

* * *

 

“Mr. Grayson! Mr. Grayson!”

“Mr. Grayson, what do you have to say about the rumors that Mr. Wayne has run off?”l

“How affected is Wayne Enterprises?”

Dick walked stone-faced through the sea of reporters, virtually carrying Damian so that the boy would not fall prey to the journalists. He had hoped to pop by Wayne Enterprises, give Tim a boxed lunch, watch him eat (because Lord knew he wouldn't otherwise), and then give Damian a little tour of the company. He had not expected the pack of paparazzi waiting to jump him at the building entrance.

“Mr. Grayson, is your inheritance threatened by the discovery of Bruce Wayne’s real son?”

“There are rumors that you are grooming Bruce Wayne’s son to have control over his trust fund. What do you have to say to that, Mr. Grayson?”

Damian looked stunned, and stopped in his tracks. What was that supposed to mean? He looked questioningly up at Dick, who was quick to pick Damian up fully, and sprinted up the stairs to safety. Once they were inside the building, Dick put Damian down and dusted him off.

“Bunch of idiots out there, huh, Dami?”

“Fools,” Damian concurred absentmindedly, with none of his infamous conviction. “What were those people-“

“Come on, we have to give Tim food,” Dick hastened to change the subject, walking swiftly towards Tim’s office. “You know we have to force him to eat something.”

“We’re force feeding Drake!” Damian grinned happily, his previous train of thought forgotten. “I have packed leather straps to tie him down and tape to secure his mouth open!”

“No, Dami, we don't-“ Dick petered off as Damian ran happily toward the elevator, brandishing leather buckle straps and cackling merrily. Dick smiled softly and followed Damian as he parted a sea of terrified employees to get to an unsuspecting Tim’s room, pasta and salad in hand.

\-------

Damian pouted from where he sat in Tim’s chair, his head barely reaching the top of the desk. “I thought we were force feeding Drake,” he muttered sullenly.

Dick giggled from where he sat next to Tim on the small sofa in Tim’s private office. Next to him, Tim rolled his eyes and tried to close the lid on his half-eaten pasta. “Thanks for the food, Dick, it was great-“

“EAT. YOUR. PASTA. TIMMY.”

“Okay, okay,” Tim said, terrified, as he dug back into the lunchbox. Dick’s thunderous expression softened into sentimental goop immediately, and he looked at his brother adoringly. “Why'd you bring Damian?”

“I wanted to show him where you worked,” Dick replied. “I wanted to show him how hard his big brother worked to provide for his family!”

Damian snorted judgmentally and flipped open a file. “It can't be that hard. All he does is look at papers and sign - what is this?” He asked, scrutinizing the file he had just opened. “...signed over Wayne Enterprises to Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne on the sixteenth of September - Drake! Explain this!” Damian cried hysterically.

“I thought it was so easy,” Tim mocked him through a mouthful of fusilli. “That document states that I have complete control of Wayne Enterprises and all it's assets, affiliated companies, and have the final word in any decision taken for the company.”

Damian’s mouth worked silently, flabbergasted that Drake was the major breadwinner in their family. “...and what's this?” He asked, spying a document with his own name on it.

“Those are my personal tax forms,” Tim said. “I've cited you as my dependent for tax benefits. Thanks for existing, Damian!”

A slideshow of emotions passed on Damian’s tiny, contorted, face before he fled from the room. “Damian!” Dick yelled, springing up. “Tim, pack up, we have to go after him!”

“Why?”

“Before we got here, some reporter was questioning his inheritance, and suggesting that we were using Bruce Wayne’s “real son”,” he said angrily. “Seeing those forms would've made him more distraught. Oh, my poor brother!” Dick cried, anguished.

“You go on, I've got some work to do,” Tim began, but quickly changed tune as Dick started gritting his teeth and popping his red eyes at him. “But I'm going to put it aside for now because I love and value my family,” he said, hurrying after a somewhat placated Dick.

As they ran through Gotham trying to find the littlest brat of them all, Tim couldn't help but wonder what the demonling was up to this time.

\---------

They finally caught up to Damian in a small, out of the way, froyo shop two blocks away from Wayne Tower, looking dejectedly at his order of the shop’s “finest curdled cold milk, flavoured with vanilla bean essence”. Dick screamed in relief, proceeded to glomp an unresponsive Damian in a big hug, and talked anxiously at the boy as Tim pestered the shop attendant to ask if they had coffee flavoured froyo.

“Damian, what’s wrong?” Dick cooed, “why’re you so sad?”

Damian only “tt’d” and scooped a spoonful of yogurt into his mouth. “Why do you care,” he huffed. “After all, I'm just a money machine for you all,” he grumbled.

“Dami no!” Dick gasped.

“Dami yes,” Damian pouted. “I have nothing of Father’s legacy. Drake got Wayne Enterprises and all of Father’s assets. We are effectively living off of his crumbs. What do I have? Nothing. Nada. Zilcho, as Todd says.”

Dick looked as heartbroken as Damian as he gently petted Damian’s hair. “Oh, Dami. You have so much and you don't even realize it.”

“Speak sense, Grayson.”

“It's true though,” Dick laughed. “Yes, it's true that Bruce gave Wayne Enterprises to Tim. He was always going to do it, because Tim was practically running the company anyway, and the international business world leaders already feared him. It made sense.”

“And what of you!?” Damian demanded passionately. “Father left you with nothing! Only responsibilities and the burden of raising his son, and the prospect of living off of Drake’s mercy! He is a soulless creature, Grayson. He will consume your pure, foolish, heart, and then he will chain me in the attic while he continues to use my name for tax benefits!”

Dick stared at Damian’s scared expression for all of five seconds before bursting into laughter. “Oh, Dami,” he giggled, “you're so silly sometimes.”

“Cease insulting me Grayson, and explain yourself! Here I am, selflessly looking out for our best interests, and you- mmph!” Damian’s tirade was smothered as Dick smushed his face between his hands.

“Damian,” Dick said kindly, “Bruce gave me the most precious thing he had.”

“Explain,” Damian said, intrigued, envisioning ancient artifacts and weapons, and underground bunkers filled with precious metals, money, kittens, and various barnyard animals.

“Bruce gave me the thing we both valued more than anything in the world - you.” Damian’s eyes widened comically, and Dick continued. “He gave me you.”

Damian blushed and looked away. “Stop it, Grayson,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

“I'm serious,” Dick went on happily. “He gave me my own kid, and the opportunity to have what he and I had, way back in the beginning. Together, we made something incredible,” Dick said, his throat tightening. “I want that for us, now. You and me, together,” he said softly.

“Together,” Damian echoed pensively. After a second, he brightened. “Together, we will give the world a new era of order and peace! Misery and ruin shall rain down upon the evildoers who cross our path!” Damian burst into diabolical laughter that echoed throughout the shop, startling Tim and the shop attendant.

Dick, however, glowed at his baby brother, heartened to see a smile lighting up his evil little face. Their moment of happiness was short lived, however, when a series of flashes erupted from the storefront window.

“Mr. Grayson!”

“Mr. Drake!”

“Could you comment on your reason for-“

The clueless paparazzo was cut short when Damian viciously flung his froyo at the man, curds landing all over him with a spectacular splatter.

“Begone, vile scum!” Damian hollered, standing on his chair. “When I have brought peace to the world, none of your ilk shall roam the streets! Flee! Flee while you can!” He screamed, as the paparazzi scattered, terrified for their lives.

As Dick pulled Damian down into another hug, Tim frowned at the memory of seeing Dick upset and Damian so clearly scared and heartbroken. No child had any business looking that sad, no matter if they were Damian or not.

Something had to be done, Tim decided, and he knew just what to do.

He wasn't the smart one for nothing.

\-----------

The Next Day...

Dick hurried across the fashion district, looking hassled as he and Damian tried to outrun the horde of paparazzi on their tail.

“Mr. Grayson!”

“Damian! Damian!”

One persistent paparazzo finally broke through the horde to get close enough for a snap of Damian looking murderous, but before he was able to click, his camera lens was crushed by a large hand. “Hey! That was my camera! Who the hell do you think you are!?” The hapless man screamed.

The owner of the hand then came into view, effectively silencing the previously incensed man. Jason Todd frowned down at the fool who dared to talk back to him, and positioned himself between Damian and the man.

“I'm the bodyguard,” he rumbled menacingly. “You got a problem with me, punk?”

The horde of paparazzi immediately fell back, taking in the sight of the man clad in all black, large enough to block out the sun. “Didn't think so,” Jason said, giving the camera one final twist to break it completely.

Dick smiled adoringly up at Jason as the nosy reporters ran off. “Thanks, Jay, you were great.”

Jason smirked down at Dick and Damian, the latter of whom was looking at Jason in awe for having instilled fear into the hearts of the craven paparazzi.

“All in a day’s work, Dickhead,” Jason said, smiling beatifically. “All in a day’s work.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason gets a boner. 
> 
> Damian gets schooled. 
> 
> And Alfred demonstrates the uses of a stiff upper lip.

Come pop by tumblr to give me ([kindaangelic](http://kindaangelic.tumblr.com)) and my sweet beta, [komadoriwonder](http://komadoriwonder.tumblr.com), a cheeky wink or two.

* * *

 

Jason was of good cheer, and why wouldn't he be? Alfred had asked him over to show him how to make Jason’s famous chicken fried rice, and he had fed the whole family his own culinary masterpiece for a post patrol meal. It was good enough to merit a smile from the normally stoic butler, and even Damian was eating it, after carefully picking out the chicken to tip onto Dick’s plate.

After dinner, Jason was lounging by the fireside with Tim curled on top of him like a cat, fast asleep after a heavy meal. With a tumbler of cranberry juice in hand, Jason sat back and smirked, fancying himself to be a Bond villain, complete with deceptively cute feline and beverage in hand. He imagined James Bond in his clutches, but with Roy playing the hero, blindfolded and completely at his mercy.

Yum.

Jason’s role play fantasies came to an abrupt end when Dick came into the room to sit down, and Tim sleepily migrated over to his eldest brother to continue his nap. “What's wrong, Timmy?” Dick asked affectionately, scratching Tim’s ear. “Jay not comfy anymore?”

“He was poking me,” Tim mumbled sleepily.

“Was not,” Jason denied, before looking down at a very apparent tent in his pants. Oops.

Dick glared at him and cuddled Tim close, to which Jason had to defend himself. “I was thinking of Roy,” he explained. “I completely forgot that Tim was there.” Dick still looked upset, but amused at the same time.

“Tim will never know about this,” he hissed at Jason, who nodded fervently. It was better for eveyone’s sanity to never have to revisit that moment. Jason lapsed back into his happy haze, reliving the satisfying crunch of bone from Bane’s nose having met his fist that night. He was ready to fall asleep in the plush armchair, little gun-slinging sugarplum faeries dancing around his head, when he heard a soft sigh.

Stupid, sad, Dick. Maybe if he ignored him, he would go away.

“SIGH.”

No such luck.

“What?” Jason growled.

Dick stared into the merrily crackling fire and took a minute to brace himself before speaking. “I got a call from Damian’s school today.”

“Hoo boy.”

“Specifically, from his teacher. She said that Damian wasn't paying attention in class, and that he was rude and dismissive to her and to his peers. On the other hand, his assignments are perfect, but he has no interest in the subject matter. I just don't know how to get him excited about school,” Dick admitted, sounding defeated.

Jason scoffed. He couldn't imagine being dismissive towards school. He'd loved going, always with a bounce in his step. He'd run into Bruce’s room in the mornings and jump on the bed till he woke up to take Jason to school. He'd loved learning, and it was one of the few things he missed about his old life.

“Brat doesn't know what he's missing,” Jason grumbled.

Dick’s expression softened, causing Jason to feel uncomfortable. “I'm sorry, Little Wing,” Dick said sincerely. “I wish Damian shared your love of learning.” Suddenly, Dick brightened. “Do you think you could talk to him? Maybe you could show him how fun school can be!”

Jason mulled over the idea. He could kick sense into the Brat, make him see how good he had it. Maybe that would bring him down from his high horse.

“Sure,” Jason said, “I’ll talk to him.”

“I'll talk to him real good.”

\-----------

Jason barged into Damian’s room the next day as the boy was sketching away. Damian was seated on his bed, his back to the door, with light streaming in from his window that cast his silhouette in the bright sunlight. The image was almost angelic, until Jason remembered that this was the child of Bruce and a literal descendant of a demon.

Damian hadn't looked up from his drawing, so Jason decided to exercise his elder brother’s prerogative and take a peek. Upon inspection, Jason could just make out a portrait of Bruce.

Damnit.

Jason didn't come into this expecting to feel sympathy for the brat, but the damn kid and his damn life-like sketches had him feeling bad for him now. Jason cleared his throat to announce his presence and braced himself for an attack. Predictably, Damian sent three batarangs flying at him with deadly accuracy and without warning.

Jason dodged them easily and laughed. “Losing your touch, Demon Brat?”

Damian finally turned around to face him, his tiny face contorted as though he had just bitten into a lemon. “Todd! Remove yourself from my chambers!”

Jason shook his head minutely. What kid talked like that?

“No can do, pipsqueak,” Jason replied lightly, plopping down on the bed. “I'm here on a mission set by His High Dickness.”

“What? Does he want another hug? Tell him he has already exceeded his daily quota, and that his counter will reset at midnight.”

“No,” Jason said slowly, pondering Damian’s ingenious tactic. A hug quota? That would be useful the next time Dick came around moping and looking for affection. “I came to talk to you about your attitude at school.”

“Tt. What about it?”

“It has come to my attention that you don't like school. Now, I know that you're a smartass, but maybe you could pick something interesting up during your lessons. Maybe there's an extracurricular that you could get into. Maybe you should skip a couple of grades and see if anything there interests you. It's school, and it's great! Anything is possible!”

Damian simply stared at Jason throughout his enthusiastic entreaty and once he was finished, let out a sigh that was too reminiscent of Dick. “Your thoughts on the subject have been noted, Todd, but I already know everything that those simpletons have to teach me. Mother had employed the very best of the world’s tutors to teach me. I can grasp advanced concepts in epigenetics, and your high school students are still butchering frogs - which is a detestable act!”

Jason rolled his eyes. Great, the kid was an animal lover. He was going to find him chained up to a tree in protest one of these days.

“Think of it this way,” Jason suggested, hitting upon another tactic. “School is a means to an end. Once you're done, you have the foundation to pursue a career in whatever you want. And with your brains and daddy’s money, you could have the pick of the finest colleges in the world!”

Damian pouted. “Pah! My civilian identity’s future is no longer something to look forward to. While I will grow up to inherit the mantle of Batman, I will no longer continue my Father’s business. It is Drake’s now, and a power struggle would damage the company’s reputation. I have nothing to look forward to.”

“So what will you do during the day?” Jason asked, genuinely curious.

“I suppose that I will devote my days to protecting Grayson. After all, that is the only choice of any value left in my life.”

Aww. That was fucking sweet.

“I meant career-wise,” Jason elaborated. “Let’s think of this is another way - what do you like doing?”

“Bringing evildoers to justice!”

“Something else. Let's not become one-dimensional.”

“I like...” Damian’s voice trailed off, and he looked around absent-mindedly until he spied his drawing of Bruce, “I like to sketch.”

“Good,” Jason said, “now we’re getting somewhere. What else do you like?”

“I like Colin.”

“Colin isn't a viable career choice,” Jason responded.

“I like animals too,” Damian said cheerily. “I like cats, and dogs, and cows, and horses, and-“

Bingo.

“-and pigs, and sparrows, and turkeys, and bats!”

Jason couldn't help but smile at the sudden childlike happiness on Damian’s face. If this was what made Damian happy, then so be it. God only knew that they all deserved a little happiness.

“So how about doing something related to animal care?” Jason suggested. “You could become a veterinarian and help sick animals all day long.”

Damian’s face lit up at the suggestion. “Truly?” But the joy melted off of his face as suddenly as it had come. “But would it be a suitable undertaking for the scion of the Wayne family?”

Jason grinned. “Kid, I was a drug lord, and Bruce was still adamant on calling me his son. I think you becoming an animal doctor would have Bruce jumping for joy on whatever storm cloud he’s sitting on in heaven.”

Damian looked relieved. “Then it is settled. I shall become a doctor of animals! Drake!” Damian yelled suddenly, barging out of the room, “I require access to your college course catalog!”

Jason shook his head in disbelief. Of course the kid would try to go straight to college. Just as Jason was about to leave, Damian walked back in, dragging Tim by his hand, much to the teen’s horror (touching Damian had that effect) and reluctance (he really didn't want Damian as his classmate), and demanding that Tim help enroll him in Animal Physiology 501.

Jason smirked and kicked back on the bed, watching Tim being forced into the computer chair. He was a busy man, but he could make time for this.

\----------

The next Saturday found Jason down in the cave, customizing his weapons by adding various lethal tidbits to the already lethal instruments. Double lethality for the win.

He was quite alone, whistling a merry tune while he was working, when he felt the air take on a sudden, unholy, chill. Goosebumps rippled over his arms, and he felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. This could mean only one thing.

“Todd.”

“Damian.”

Damian stood behind Jason like a tiny predator, his eyes narrowed and his muscles tense and primed for an attack. “We need to go downtown.”

Jason grinned, putting his guns away. “You mean that you need me to take you downtown because you're too short to reach the gas pedals.”

Damian growled and was about to leap at him, when Dick flounced in. “Actually, we’re all going! Family trip!”

“Oh, joy.”

“Do join us, Master Jason,” Alfred said, entering the cave. “We are downtown to the Gotham University campus to enroll Master Tim and Master Damian in their respective courses.”

Jason looked up at Alfred, clearly confused. “Damian’s going to college?”

“Master Damian is going to sit in on a few courses that have piqued his interest. As I recall, you had some influence in that area.”

Jason looked down at Damian, who looked balefully back at him. Damian had actually taken his advice? Jason felt a warm glow spread through his body, all the way to his fingertips and toes. “I sure did,” he said sagely. “All the kiddies come to Big Brother Jay for advice,” he gloated. “How could I not be present to see my protégé take his first steps on Jason Todd’s Path to Success?”

“Bah!” Damian grumbled, unable to hide a blush on his face, and stomped towards the car. Dick floated after him, and Tim followed, looking slightly strung out, muttering under his breath about going to Iraq, of all places.

“Drake! Cease your muttering!” Damian demanded. “The University will reject us on account of insanity!”

“I'm not insane, I'm a genius!” Tim retorted.

“You're not going anywhere before classes begin!’ Damian said. “I can't have your absences reflect badly on me!”

Tim looked slyly at Damian. “I'm going to get you a gift from Iraq.”

Damian immediately cheered up. “A gift of your worship! That would be most fitting. Is it a cat? I would like a cat.”

Jason snickered and got into the front seat, leaving Dick to act as peacemaker between Tim and Damian. He and Alfred shared a smile before the car tore down the path out of Wayne Manor, and on the road to higher education.

\----------

Gotham University’s campus was a landscape that any of the Renaissance greats would have gone gaga over. Gothic buildings were surrounded by lush foliage that had been specifically imported and planted around the campus, because Gotham had no native plants that hadn't been mutated by the general smog, pollution, and evil. It was a utopia in the midst of a landfill, and Jason couldn't help but have his breath taken away by the beauty of it all.

The family ambled into the admissions office, and Alfred walked up to address the frazzled looking young woman seated at the reception.

“Excuse me, Madam,” Alfred said politely.

The woman looked up in surprise, took in Alfred’s debonair dress and bearing, and leaned forwards with a smile and with a breathy voice, asked, “How can I help you?”

Damn, Alfie had game.

“We have come to enroll some of our youngsters in your illustrious institution,” Alfred said. “Timothy Drake-Wayne, Damian Wayne, and Jacob Podd.”

Hold up.

Jason had to exert quite a bit of effort to hold back a squeak of surprise. He looked at Dick, who grinned at him. “Surprise, Jay!”

“W-wh-“

Jason’s question was interrupted as the receptionist spoke up again. “Here we are. Timothy Drake-Wayne, freshman for a correspondence degree in mechanical engineering, Damian Wayne, auditing the classes Animal Physiology 301 and Psychology of the Feline Mind 405, and Jacob Podd, freshman for a correspondence degree in English Literature.”

Jason felt his knees go weak, and dimly registered the sounds of Alfred and the woman talking. He barely felt Dick’s arm reaching around his waist to maneuver him towards a bench, and it took Dick lightly slapping his face to bring him back to earth.

“H-huh? Dick, that woman- Jacob Podd- me?”

Dick beamed as Alfred came up to the group, delicately tucking a chit with the woman’s number into his breast pocket. “Master Damian indicated that you showed a keen interest in school,” he said lightly. “I happened to recall your favorite subject as a child, and took the initiative to enroll you under a false name. A full identity has been set up for Jacob Podd, should you wish to utilize-oh!”

Alfred was shocked into silence as Jason flung his arms around the older man and buried his face in his shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Alfred cleared his throat and gently patted Jason on the back. “There, there. It was the least we could do. For your information, Jacob Podd is the grandson of one Alfred Pennyworth, and you are here to pursue your higher education.”

Jason sniffed discreetly into Alfred’s suit and willed the tears in his eyes to stay put. “Alfie,” he choked out, “thank you.”

“You should thank Master Damian,” Alfred pointed out gently. “He was most insistent that we enroll you as well.”

Jason looked down at the child, who was blushing a furious tomato-red, and trying to hide behind Dick. Without hesitation, Jason scooped Damian up and placed a big, wet, kiss on his cheek, complete with exaggerated sound effect, before plopping him back on the ground. “Thanks, kiddo,” he said sincerely, smiling at Damian.

For his part, Damian looked ready to combust, his blush now reaching the roots on his hair. After fidgeting agitatedly for a few tense seconds, Damian screamed and ran off, unable to deal with the kindness of other people.

“He is a sweet child,” Alfred said, looking fondly at Damian’s tiny figure running away in the distance.

“Yeah,” Jason agreed. “He is.”

Suddenly, Jason felt an unusual wistful sorrow wash over him. This was Bruce’s last child, and he'd never see this son grow up. Watching Damian bound off across the campus, he silently promised the boy a family that Bruce would have wanted for him.

I hope you're watching, old man. You'd be proud. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim brings hope.
> 
> Damian’s stubbornness saves the day.
> 
> And Jason discovers that Dick’s tears can penetrate solid objects.

Come scream with me about BatFam at my [tumblr](http://kindaangelic.tumblr.com) and also go and yell sweet things at my gorgeous beta, [komadoriwonder](http://komadoriwonder.tumblr.com)!

 

* * *

 

Never in all his years of knowing Tim did Jason think that his little brother could do something so utterly, phenomenally, stupid. Jason cursed out the little twit, who was probably performing some pretty cool and death defying stunts somewhere in Iraq, where he had run away to.

That’s right, run away.

One fine evening, Jason had gotten a hysterical phone call from Dick - which was not an uncommon occurrence, per say - but this one had Jason speeding through Gotham to get to the Manor where he would learn that Tim had run off to Iraq with the idea that there was a lead there to find Bruce, who was supposed to be alive after being blasted into smithereens by Darkseid.

That brought them to present day and time, which found Dick sobbing into Jason’s good jacket, and Damian snarking off like it was his job.

“Enough!” Jason yelled, jumping to his feet. “Now I don’t know why Tim thought it would be a good idea to run away from home-“

“Drake is devoid of ideas, he has no brain.”

“-but all that snark couldn’t have helped anything,” Jason said, looking pointedly at Damian, who huffed but stayed silent. Feeling more in control, Jason opted to tackle Dick next.

“Was it us?” Dick asked, his voice quavering, “did he run away to get away from us? I thought that we were doing alright, that we were getting better, not...” Dick dissolved into tears again, and this time, Jason could feel his tears somehow penetrate the leather of his jacket, his armour, and soak his shirt.

“Stop crying,” Jason snarled lowly at him, “you’re winding up the brat.”

Sure enough, Damian’s face was reddening with the effort of keeping himself from comforting Dick, and at the same time, deal with the guilt that he had perhaps caused Tim to leave. Dick scooped Damian up and bounced him lightly, and surprisingly, the boy settled into his brother’s arms.

“Drake is a fool,” he proclaimed, his own voice shaking slightly. “He should know better than to run off.”

Jason watched his eldest and youngest brothers comfort each other, and came to a decision. “Come on,” he said, walking towards the Batplane.

“Where are we going?” Dick sniffled, following his brother obediently.

Jason turned on his heel, stopping in front of the jet. He took in the sight of Dick, with his red rimmed eyes, and Damian, who was clinging to him protectively, and felt a pang of worry at the thought of his other brother fighting alone, and in parts unknown. It was too late to do anything else, he was in too deep now.

“We’re going to catch ourselves a Robin.”

—————

Several hours and an epic fight later, Jason was dragging Tim into the cave by the ear while Dick and Damian followed, the latter excitedly recounting as to how he utterly demolished a handful of villains who had been trailing Tim.

“...and I swung around and launched a batarang into his face! Did you see? Did you see how he-“

Dick smiled indulgently and ushered Damian off to the showers, the boy still on a high from the amount of foes he had maimed. Once Damian was safely in the shower stall, Dick rounded on Tim, who was being tied to a chair by an irate Jason.

“Oh, Tim,” Dick said, sadness and disappointment dripping from his words. Tim flinched, loathe to ever cause his eldest brother any pain.

Jason was not one to use words where he could be more tactile, and chose to slap Tim around the head instead.

“Ow!”

“What the hell, you weedy little pigeon, why’d you run off!?”

Tim grumbled incoherently into his feet, prompting a rough poke to his side.

“Speak up!” Jason roared.

“You won’t believe me if I tell you!” Tim cried hysterically. “I had to be sure, I needed proof-“

“Then spit it out!”

“Bruce is alive!”

Tim’s scream reverberated throughout the cave, sending the bats into a frenzy even as Dick and Jason fell silent. Tim slumped in his chair and repeated, softly, “Bruce is alive.”

Jason swore colourfully and stomped his foot hard, while Dick knelt in front of Tim’s chair, stabilizing himself by putting his hands on Tim’s knees. “Timmy...”

“I’m not crazy!” Tim cried, fidgeting within his bonds. “I’ve been doing research and gathering proof this whole time. Bruce was blasted into the past by Darkseid, and he’s been skipping through time the whole while! Iraq was a final clue to confirm-“

“Timmy, Bruce is dead,” Dick whispered, his voice cracking. “The entire Justice League, Superman, Wonder Woman, saw it happen.”

“They saw wrong!” Tim insisted. “Bruce is alive, he left clues for us to follow. There’s going to be a time jump soon, and he’s going to come back, but we need to help him!”

Tim looked desperately around at Jason, then Dick. “Why don’t you believe me?” He asked weakly, as Dick sat heavily on the floor at his feet. “I have proof, Dick, please! Bruce is alive!”

“Father is alive?”

Everyone spun around to see Damian, dripping wet and wrapped in an oversized towel that dwarfed him. “Father is alive?” He repeated innocently, sounding stunned, his eyes wide.

Dick sprung into action and grabbed Damian and hauled him out of the cave, with Damian’s persistent questions becoming more charged by the second. “Father is alive! How does Drake know that? Is he alright? We must-“

Damian’s voice was silenced as the doors of the cave shut, leaving Jason and Tim alone. Tim struggled out of his bonds and grabbed Jason’s arm, pulling on it insistently. “Jason, Jay, please...”

Jason looked down to see Tim’s pleading expression, his pale blue eyes swimming with tears of frustration, and felt his heart sink. He never thought that they would crack, despite all the shit life threw at them. To see Tim in this state, broken hearted and desperate, hurt Jason in a place that he had worked hard to lock away.

“Jay...” Tim’s voice cracked fully as the boy dissolved into sobs, hot tears running down his face and splattering Jason’s armour.

In the privacy of his helmet, Jason cried too, the pain in his heart too much to bear. He held his brother and pressed Tim’s face into his armour, hoping to stifle the wracking sobs that seemed to shake the foundation of Wayne Manor itself.

But in which universe was Jason ever enough?

—————

It was the dead of night when Tim felt himself being lightly slapped in his sleep.

Odd. Kon had never indicated dominatrix fantasies having tickled his fancy. Which could only mean...

Tim snapped awake to see Damian sitting on top of him and patting his face. Tim sat up to face his intruder and spoke softly, so as to not wake Jason, who was asleep beside him. “What the hell, you demented penguin!” Tim hissed.

“Come with me, Drake!” Damian whispered back.

They both paused as Jason snorted and grumbled in his sleep, and threw an arm around Tim, squishing Damian into him in the process, causing the two youngest to lie belly-to-belly together.

“We will have to speak this way, the matter is too important to wait,” Damian whispered urgently. Tim was too shocked at having Damian’s nose lodged in his throat to be anything but horrified, and Damian took his silence as consent to continue their clandestine meeting. “What proof do you have that Father is alive?”

Tim’s heart soared at the thought that someone in the family believed him, and didn’t think that he was crazy. “There were clues that Bruce left. Bits and pieces of his weaponry and costume in places he had visited throughout time. His cape, his utility belt, and a journal that was supposed to be some pilgrim’s, but the handwriting was Bruce’s. I tracked the omega energy on each item and calculated the time and energy radiation between artifacts, and found that we should have a resurgence soon. We have to be there for Bruce this time.”

“What is omega energy?”

“It’s a force that Darkseid- you know what, never mind. It's something that’s causing Bruce to take time skips, and it’s controlling him.”

“So we find Father, free him from this insidious energy, and bring him back?”

Tim paused, quickly doing the math in his head. “Pretty much.” Tim craned his head so that he could meet Damian’s eyes. “You really believe me?”

“It is unlikely that you have lost your mind. There is no genetic predisposition towards mental illness in your biological family, and your mental aptitude test scores were impeccable. I know this because I saw your files. I have no doubt about your intellectual capabilities, so what reason do I have to disbelieve you?”

Tim processed Damian’s logic and marveled at how far he had come. Perhaps there was hope for the little murder bird after all. Tim’s thoughts were interrupted when Jason led out a loud snore and pulled Tim closer, effectively trapping him, along Damian, who was still on top of him.

“We cannot discuss this without waking Todd,” Damian hissed. “He is a beast when roused - a hairy, untamed, beast! We shall speak further in the morning. Sleep well, Drake,” Damian whispered, and promptly knocked off, his head tucking into the side of Tim’s neck, and his tiny limbs going limp.

Tim made a face at the feeling of Damian’s sleepy little huffs of breath against his face, and the feeling of Jason’s arm crushing him. Of all the times for the Red Hood to grow a protective streak, tonight was by far the least convenient.

Still, it was better to have his brothers by his side than not, Tim thought to himself, as he let the steady thump of Damian’s heartbeat against his own lull him to sleep.

—————

When Dick woke up the next morning, his first act was to panic when he saw that Damian was missing from beside him. He then proceeded to run around the house from room to room like a headless chicken, until he stumbled upon a sight that made his heart sing.

His three little brothers were all cuddled together, fast asleep. Damian was asleep on top of Tim, his face mashed against Tim’s shoulder. Tim had his arm wrapped around Damian, preventing the littlest Wayne from sliding off. To top that all off was Jason’s arm, as he held them all in place, like the good big brother that he was.

Dick snuck inside, and gently blew into Jason’s ear to wake him up. Jason roused himself like a bear coming out of hibernation - that is to say, slowly, and with a lot of growling.

“Wha-“

“Jay, look,” Dick whispered, gesturing to his side. Jason looked over at Tim and Damian, and snickered.

“My phone’s on the stand,” Jason whispered. “Take some pictures.”

After the mandatory photo session was done, Jason hit upon another idea. “Hey watch this,” he snickered. Carefully, he rubbed his hairy forearm against Damian’s back, causing the boy to fidget angrily in his sleep, which led to Tim fidgeting as well.

Dick and Jason giggled like the delinquents that they were, enjoying their younger brothers’ discomfort. Their giggles caused Tim to wake up, and promptly slid Damian off of himself.

“You jerks,” Tim hissed, as Damian slowly roused himself. “Delete those pictures!”

“Cease your infantile acts!” Damian cried. “We must save Father!”

Dick and Jason sobered immediately at Damian’s words. “Dami, Bruce isn’t-“

“He is alive!” Damian said insistently. “Do not dismiss Drake as a desperate madman with deeply seated daddy issues! I have checked his mental aptitude scores, it betrays no such signs!”

“Oh my god, you hacked his profile, you little creep!” Jason gasped.

“Silence! Drake, tell them what you told me yesterday!”

Dick’s face scrunched up in sadness. “Damian...”

“Grayson, if you do not hear Drake out, then I swear by all that is holy, that I will cry!”

The room immediately fell silent as Damian scrunched his face up, ready to unleash a storm of tears. “W-wa...”

“Okay, okay, stop!” Jason cried. “Tim can speak!”

Damian grinned and sat up proudly, looking to Dick for his praises.

Dick didn’t disappoint. “That was very manipulative, Dami. I’m so proud that you used your wiles!”

Jason stared at his brother. “There is something truly wrong with you. Tim, go on,” he said, hoping to distract himself from the overly loving dynamic of Dick and Damian.

Tim cleared his throat and sat up straight. This was his moment. “Bruce was blasted through time and the omega energy surrounding him is forcing him to take time leaps. There’s going to be another skip which will bring Bruce back to us, but we have to help him!”

“Do you have proof of this?” Dick asked hopefully.

Tim seized a chest under his bed and flung the contents all over his brothers. A raggedly cape, a journal, Bruce’s utility belt, and other tidbits came raining down upon them. “They were all over the place. Kon has been flying me all over the world to collect them. I’ve studied them and found that they come from different times. Guys,” Tim breathed, “Bruce is alive.”

There was a tense silence as the boys contemplated the items strewn around them. Dick broke the silence by dissolving into sobs, hiding his face in Bruce’s battered cape.

“Oooooh, Bruce!”

“Dick, calm down.”

“Timmy!” Dick cried, flinging himself over his brother and smothering him. “I should have believed in you!”

“Mmgph.”

“Great. Bruce is alive. Now what?” Jason deadpanned.

Dick broke apart from Tim, who was now partially wet from Dick’s tears. They looked at Damian, who was busy wrapping himself in Bruce’s cape and tying the utility belt around himself. It fell off of his tiny waist, so Damian slung it around his shoulder like a sash and sat proudly on the bed, fiddling with the weapons in the belt’s various pouches.

He looked up at Dick happily, his dream of becoming the Bat finally having come to fruition. Dick smiled back and prodded Damian playfully. “You look very handsome, Damian. Who is going to be your Robin?”

Damian looked around thoughtfully before settling his gaze back on Dick. “You can be my Robin,” he said decisively. “If I keep you close, I can protect you better. Grayson, stop cooing!”

“Awwww!”

“I said cease!”

Jason and Tim looked at each other knowingly as Dick showered Damian with love that the boy appeared to grudgingly accept.

“You don’t have to protect Dick, Damian,” Tim spoke up.

Damian looked at his brother incredulously. “If Grayson is my Robin, then of course I must protect him! Don’t be daft, Drake.”

“Dick can’t be your Robin, because you’re Robin,” Jason said. “And it’s going to stay that way.”

“Because we’re bringing Bruce back home.”


	8. Chapter 8

Beta’d by the lovely [komadoriwonder](http://komadoriwonder.tumblr.com), who never ceases to be a spring of joy.

Also, [me](http://kindaangelic.tumblr.com), on tumblr. Pop by and say hello!

 

* * *

 

The plan was a simple one in the face of such complex circumstances. Tim would pinpoint the location of Bruce’s reappearance, and when Bruce would show up under the influence of the omega energy, the entire Justice League, plus the Bat Clan, would be waiting to subdue him and release him from the energy.

So when Bruce finally appeared, dripping in omega energy ooze, it should have been easy, what with the combined might of Superman, Wonder Woman, the entire fucking League, and the Bats.

Instead, the über-powerful-time-traveling-ooze covering Bruce picked up every individual weakness of the League, and defeated them one by one. Finally, it was only the Bats left standing.

“Father! Cease your destructive behavior this minute!” Damian shrieked.

Omega Ooze controlled Bruce looked down at his suddenly talking navel, and took in his latest adversary. Like a man emerging from a food coma, Bruce fought through the haze of mind control and reached out to his youngest. “D-Damian?”

“Names, Father, you should know better,” Damian hissed urgently. The ooze was sufficiently confused by this time for Damian to grab Bruce’s hand and attempt to drag him home. “Come, Father, enough of your shenanigans! Let us take you home!”

Before Bruce could answer, the ooze overpowered him again, and he shook a heartbroken Damian off. “F-Father?” He asked quietly, as Bruce stalked ahead of him. Not being one to be left behind, Damian took a running leap at Bruce and latched onto his cape, eventually climbing onto his shoulders and hanging on like a lemur and attempted to pierce through the ooze.

Jason felt his newly found protective instincts flare up seeing Damian struggling to scale Bruce, and blocked his Father’s path.

“ **Move. I have a mission** ,” Ooze-Bruce said in his creepy monotone. Jason snorted and pushed him back.

“As if. Hey, this slime is, like, invulnerable, right?” Jason asked.

“ **Yes** ,” Ooze-Bruce answered.

“Cool!” Jason grinned and lugged a bazooka out and shot Bruce with it, sending him careening back several feet. “Whoo! That was cathartic,” Jason grinned. “Also I brought you time. Do what you will with it.”

Tim made good use of the time and scraped some ooze off of a disoriented Bruce. “Hmm. This slime is too complex to make sense of,” he said, running the ooze through the analyzer. “It’d be cool if it weren’t attached to our dad and controlling him like some sort of time traveling brain slug.”

Ooze-Bruce looked up at the newcomer curiously, failing to recognize Tim in his new persona. “ **Identity unknown. State your name, individual.** ”

Tim looked extremely upset before he slapped Bruce across the face. “After everything I’ve done for you? You cad!” He hissed, before flouncing off to go and hide behind Jason to do more geek work on his analyzer.

“How dare you,” Jason growled at a stunned Bruce. “Replacement’s been through enough for you!” He said, before shooting Bruce again.

Ooze-Bruce stood up again, staggering to his feet. The repeated hits from the bazooka, the combined might of the League, and Damian’s vitriolic snark had finally began to take their toll. “ **Mission incomplete. Must...fulfill... mission requirements.** ”

Dick decided that it was time to take matters into his own hands, and with a series of pretzel like twists and flips, coerced Bruce into a corner, and then slapped him.

“ **Ow**.”

Dick looked conflicted as he kneed Bruce in his man-zone. “I didn’t want to do that!” He cried unhappily, kneeing him again. “Snap out of it, Batman, we need you!” With his emotions getting the better of him, Dick lunged at Bruce and pulled him into a hug to cry onto his shoulder.

Suddenly, the ooze rippled across Bruce and seemed to shrink away from contact with Dick. Tim darted forward and gasped as he noticed that the ooze was burning up at the points that Dick’s tears made contact with it.

“That’s it! The complex chemical composition of Dick’s tears are confusing and burning the omega ooze! There’s too many hormones and stress chemicals in it! Dick, keep crying!” Tim cheered.

“I felt unloved by you as a child!” Jason yelled, prompting a fresh cascade of tears.

“I was upset when you wouldn’t come to me for help!” Superman chimed in.

“You let me down after Batman died!” Tim said, going straight for the jugular.

“I...I want to go home,” Damian said. “To Mother!”

Dick’s tear ducts expanded to inhuman lengths to accommodate the flood of tears, and the ooze beat a retreat, sliding off of Bruce and onto the floor to escape into another time warp, only to be held in place by Wonder Woman’s lasso.

In the meantime, Bruce sat up, disoriented and slightly damp due to a weeping Dick still clinging to him. He took in the situation surrounding him - Dick weeping, Damian dressed as Robin, Jason laughing, Tim dressed in something far too tight for his liking, Cassandra and Stephanie casually flicking explosive darts at the struggling omega ooze, and Clark trying to punch it into submission. He had half a mind to laugh while the other half huffed in contempt. Not everything could be solved by punching it very hard. As it was, Bruce was only able to grumble the word, “meathead” at Clark before passing out.

—————

Bruce came to once again in the medical ward of the Batcave, surrounded by his family. They were all asleep, except Damian, who was sitting beside him and watching him with wide eyes. Father and son stared at each other for a long while before Bruce silently raised a hand in greeting. Damian reciprocated the gesture with the same silence, raising his tiny hand up against Bruce’s. Then, he scrambled off of the bed and ran to Dick, who was dozing in the only chair, and gently patted his face.

“Grayson, Father has awoken from his respite!”

Bruce smiled. He’d forgotten that his kid spoke like a little bard.

Dick sprang out of his chair and ran to Bruce, trampling on Tim, Cass, and Jason, who had conked out together in a pile on the floor.

“Guh! Attack!” Jason shouted, springing up at Dick stepped on his stomach.

“Ow, boob,” Cassandra added, cradling one tiny, trampled, titty.

“Bruce is awake!” Dick shrieked.

“Oh, is that all?”

Dick left Tim to slap Jason while he quickly checked Bruce’s vitals. Seeing that everything was in order, he proceeded to drape himself over Bruce, who by this time, knew better than to resist Dick’s affections.

“Oh, Bruce!”

“Yes, Dick?”

“We missed you so much!”

“I know, Dick.”

“How are you feeling?” Tim asked softly, wrapping his hands around Bruce’s bicep.

“Could be worse. I have a mild headache,” Bruce confessed. Cassandra pressed a little kiss to Bruce’s forehead, eliciting a happy smile from him. “I’m better now.”

“Hey, old spice,” Jason said awkwardly. “You look like shit.”

“Jay-lad,” Bruce greeted his third eldest. “You have rugburn on your face.”

“What? Aw, man.”

Bruce looked at Damian, who was peeking over at him from the foot of the bed, and smiled, extending his hand to the little boy that he hadn’t gotten to know before his disappearance. Damian scurried over to him in a flash, and proceeded to try and colonize him by laying across his torso like a starfish. Bruce chuckled into Damian’s hair and let out a long, tired, breath.

“Tea, Master Bruce?”

Bruce looked up to see Alfred, framed by the sunlight luring in from the window, standing over them all like a guardian angel.

“May I have coffee?”

“Absolutely not,” Alfred sniffed. “I raised you better than that.”

“...Earl Gray?”

“At once, Master Bruce,” Alfred said softly, with a gentle smile on his face that was mirrored by Bruce.

He was finally home. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce adjusts to coming home.
> 
> Damian gets another kiss.
> 
> Alfred is Horrified at the idea of a coffee wedding cake (and rightfully so).

End of an era, eh? What a journey. Thank you all for sticking with the story and with me to the very end.

Come and visit me on [my tumblr](http://kindaangelic.tumblr.com), and go and sing praises of [komadoriwonder](http://komadoriwonder.tumblr.com), the most wonderful friend and beta to ever grace the multiverse. 

* * *

 

 

Unable to be sedentary for even a day, Bruce found himself hobbling into the Cave, itching to see what had become of his little sanctuary. The doors slid open, revealing his dank, dark, home away from home. Everything was as it had been before his disappearance. Everything was perfect. Absolutely-

“Hey, Bruce.”

Bruce’s jaw dropped open as he watched Jason step out of the Batmobile, wearing the Batman suit. Behind him was Nightwing, with a sleeping Robin in his arms, Damian’s face adorably smushed into Dick’s chest.

“Y-you...What...Jay?”

Jason slipped off the cowl and looked pityingly at Bruce. “Old age catching up, huh? Don’t worry, we won’t put you into a home.”

“Hi, Bruce,” Dick whispered, reaching with Damian in his arms so that Bruce could give his youngest a goodnight kiss.

Bruce felt Damian stir, mumbling something to the effect of, “kill them all,” before falling asleep again.

Dick scrutinized Bruce’s shocked expression before frowning and whispering, “don’t work yourself up. Let me tuck Damian in, and I’ll be back. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Bruce could only stare as Dick hurried upstairs, Damian in tow. Jason started to take off the suit, whistling merrily all the while. He noticed Bruce’s gaze and stopped whistling.

“Don’t stare, B. Totes creepy.”

Bruce flinched. He would never sully the suit by saying something as inane as “totes creepy” while wearing it. Or out of it, for that matter. Before he could come up with a fitting response, however, the elevator dinged again, revealing Dick and Tim hurrying towards him.

“Tim, go upstairs, you’re grounded, remember?” Dick said.

“But I left my good coffee down here,” Tim whined.

“You’re going to bed, you don’t need coffee,” Jason butted in authoritatively. “Upstairs, and don’t give us any more lip.”

“I’m the breadwinner in this family,” Tim grumbled unhappily, trudging back upstairs.

After Tim left, Bruce looked back at Dick and Jason. “Why is Tim grounded?”

“I grounded him,” Dick sniffed. “He went off all over the world looking for clues to bring you back, and had poor little Cass help him in his shenanigans. They ran off to Iraq without any backup, can you believe it? Jet gone, no note, they could have died!”

Bruce felt a surge of pride in his little coffee monster and made a mental note to order in some of Tim’s favorite arabica coffee beans. “He did that...for me?”

“He’s the one responsible for your being here,” Jason said. “He did all the calculations, globe trotting, assassin dispatching, and alliance forging for you to be standing here now.”

“We don’t deserve him,” Dick said, smiling softly.

“Maybe you don’t,” Jason snorted. “I’ve been a stellar big brother.”

“Jason, you tried to kill him.”

“Like, ages ago! That doesn’t count!”

“Stop!” Bruce thundered, interrupting the brothers’ playful banter. “Why is Jason going out as Batman!? I specifically intended for Dick to take up the cowl!”

“And I specifically intended for you to suck m-“

Dick quelled Jason’s outburst with a sharp nudge to his side, and levelled a baleful look at Bruce.

“Jason and I have been sharing Batman,” Dick informed him. “That way, Nightwing and Red Hood can still be active. I’m Batman on Wednesday's, Thursday’s, and the weekend, along with being the one working the Justice League. I’m also the one training Damian as Robin.”

“You weren’t supposed to be doing this at all!” Bruce gritted out. “Not Jason! Jason, you’re supposed to be in therapy!”

“And I am,” Jason said. “Alfie’s a great therapist, and he actually gives a shit about me. He thinks that Arkham’s a nasty place that doesn’t really help people, who’da thunk it?”

“No, no, that’s not- the Red Hood wasn’t supposed to continue! You’re supposed to stop killing! You-“ Bruce veered wildly between apoplectic and helpless looking at either of his sons.

Jason took a deep breath and addressed Bruce as calmly as possible. “Listen up, Old Mold. Things have changed here. It was fucking selfish of you to assume that Dick would give up Nightwing, and plain stupid if you thought that you could straight up order me on what to do with my life. Nightwing and Red Hood are not going away. They are to us what Batman is to you.”

“Bruce,” Dick spoke up, struggling to keep his voice even. “We made this call because we couldn’t sacrifice ourselves, our family, for this city. I love Gotham, I do, but... I love my family more. Why is that so bad?”

And for once, Bruce couldn’t think of a reason for doom and gloom, and why the world was going to fall to pieces as a result, because it hadn’t. It wasn’t. Everyone was safe.

And miraculously, they were happy, too.

Dick smiled softly and moved from Jason’s side to pat Bruce’s face in a doting manner.

“Stop it,” Bruce grumbled, to which Dick cooed.

“Oh my god, Damian does the same thing!” He squealed. “I’m going to check on him. Goodnight, Bruce, Jay! Bruce, don’t stay up too late!” Dick said, flouncing away.

The doors shut and the silence between Bruce and Jason was palpable. “Are you...staying?” Bruce asked hopefully.

Jason looked pityingly at him and smirked. “Naw. I have to get back to Roy. We’re supposed to go get fitted for tuxes early tomorrow morning.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Jason let loose a full body laugh. “Go to bed, old man,” he called as he walked away from Bruce, “rest those old bones.”

With the insult lingering in the air, the door slid shut behind Jason, leaving Bruce alone, confused, and insulted.

Grumbling, Bruce trudged up to his room, intent on mulling things over in bed, cocooned in his Egyptian silk blankets. Instead, he found his room colonized by Dick and a sleeping Damian, who had positioned himself in the center of the bed, his tiny body ramrod straight and his hands folded primly over his stomach.

“Yeah,” Dick sighed, looking at Bruce. “He always sleeps like that.”

Bruce looked around his bedroom, noting that the fine silk sheets had been replaced by a scratchy, old, Superman bedspread and Dick’s plushie elephant, Zitka. A new shelf stocked with Damian’s weapons, sketches, and strangely, a Red Hood collectible doll, had been erected by the far wall.

Gone also were Bruce’s immaculate, expensive, suits from his rosewood closet. It now housed an assortment of Dick and Damian’s clothes and more weapons. The compartment that used to house Bruce’s favorite whiskey now contained Dick’s cereal stash.

Dick sidled up to Bruce and grinned sheepishly at him. “A while after you’d...gone, Dami got it into his head that you were haunting him.” Bruce’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead as Dick chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I started co-sleeping with him to keep him company, but his bed wasn’t big enough. We had to move into yours to fit, and our stuff just migrated with us. Are you...mad?” Dick asked hesitantly.

Bruce looked at Damian on the bed, grumbling in his sleep, and kicking some imaginary foe in his dreams. Dick went over to lie down beside him, and cuddled the little boy, miraculously calming him down until he was snuffling in his sleep.

Bruce walked over to his sons and gingerly perched himself on the side of the bed. Slowly, he settled himself on Damian’s right side, while Dick snuggled Damian on his left. In that moment, seeing his sleeping children in his previously empty bed, Bruce knew how baby bear felt when he discovered Goldilocks. The shock at seeing something new in the very heart of your sanctum sanctorum was jarring.

But not necessarily in a bad way.

Bruce watched his snoozing sons, and felt his own eyelids grow heavier. He succumbed to sleep, an arm over Damian’s little body, his hand brushing Dick’s on the other side. Quick as a flash, Dick seized the hand and added it to his snuggle collection for the night. Bruce smiled resignedly and wondered how a cuddlebug like Dick managed to spend so many nights alone in bed.

As the comfortable warmth from his sons finally lulled him to sleep, Bruce’s last thought was to wonder whether baby bear might have acted too soon, and missed out on forging a wonderful new friendship due to his fear of the unknown.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Bruce woke the next morning to the feeling of little hands on his stomach. He cracked open an eye to see Damian crawling over him and making a silent, stealthy, escape out of the bed. Dick was already gone, which left Bruce wondering where the hell his kids had gotten to. He watched as Damian slid out of the room, and after giving the boy a head start, silently went after him.

To his surprise, Damian slunk into Tim’s room. The feeling of foreboding churning in his gut, Bruce peeked through the crack in the door to make sure that Damian wasn’t about to try and smother Tim in his sleep (again).

Inside the room, Damian clambered onto the bed and began to lightly slap a sleeping Tim. It took several slaps to wake Tim, who opened his eyes in a panic, only to see his assailant and groan tiredly. His attempt to burrow under the covers was in vain, as Damian crawled under as well, chattering about Tim being a “unpunctual delinquent”.

“Get out of my bed!” Tim squeaked as Damian burrowed under the covers to extricate him.

“I have to attend Canine Psychology 501 today! I refuse to miss out on my valuable education because of your chronic sleeplessness!”

“I’ll be down soon, just get out!”

“I shall drag you out myself if I have to, Drake! I have lugged the injured bodies of my assassin comrades down Death Mountain at age five, what makes you think that your weak frame will pose any challenge?”

“My body is a work of art!”

Damian ducked under the covers again and poked at his brother, which had Tim giggling uncontrollably. Curse his ticklishness. “Nonsense! I can count your ribs! One, two, three-“

“Stop molesting me, you violating leprechaun!”

“Disgusting, Drake! To think that I, the scion of the houses of Wayne and Al Ghul could ever covet your ramshackle body! There are others far more deserving of my affections-“

“You have a crush!” Tim cawed gleefully. “Who do you have a crush on, gremlin? Is it Maps? Suren? Colin? Aha!” Tim cried, jumping up and pointing victoriously at Damian, who had suddenly gone beet red. “It’s Colin! You like Colin!”

“Silence, Drake! Do not speak my Beloved’s name with your unwashed mouth!”

“Oh my god, this is amazing! I’ve got to tell everyone!”

“Speak and die, Drake!”

“Dick! Dick! You have got to hear this!”

Bruce quickly got out of the way before Tim could see him, as the boy hurtled out of the room and into the kitchen, followed by a seething Damian. Bruce followed the boys, slowly digesting the new intimacy between Tim and Damian. He could not have dreamed of something so fraternal between his youngest sons before he’d died, but now...

Down in the kitchen, Bruce was graced by another miracle. Damian was sulking at the dining table, while Tim was talking animatedly to Dick, who was by the stove, smiling and...cooking?

Oh no.

“Step away from the stove, Dick,” Bruce called. “Drop the skillet and back away, slowly.”

Dick rolled his eyes and expertly flipped the contents of the skillet and walked over to slide the contents onto Damian’s plate. “Relax, Bruce,” he drawled, with a lazy smile, “I can cook now.”

Tim led a stunned Bruce over to the table and gently sat him down. “H-how?”

“Jason and Alfie taught me,” Dick answered, turning back to the stove. “I took a work-from-home job so that I could be home when Dami got back from school. I wanted him to come home to someone who loves him, and a nice meal on the table.”

“Grayson even makes homemade frozen milk fat for movie nights,” Damian piped up.

Bruce looked questioningly at Tim, who silently pointed to the new ice cream maker on the counter.

“Speaking of movie nights,” Tim started innocently, “will you invite Colin over to the next one?”

“Silence, Drake!” Damian raged.

“I think it’s wonderful that you’ve found love, Dami,” Dick said, patting his adorably fuming brother’s head. “I hope that you’ll be very happy.”

“Tt,” Damian said haughtily, “my Beloved will want for nothing when we are together. Speaking of which, Father,” he said, looking at Bruce, “I would like to discuss whether there is a family heirloom ring. I would like to make my engagement to Colin official.”

Bruce spluttered over his milk while Tim howled with laughter at Damian’s serious request. Bruce looked pleadingly at Dick, who was beaming proudly at Damian.

“I’m so happy that you’re so decisive, Dami!”

“Tt. Of course, Grayson. I know my own mind.”

Bruce’s incredulous gaping was interrupted by a new voice in his ear.

“Pretty gross, huh?” Jason muttered, plopping down at the table. “They’ve got this unhealthy adoration thing going on. It’s totes weird. Dick,” he called to his older brother, “Stop fawning over the brat, or we’ll be late for class.”

“Class?” Bruce asked the room in general.

“Alfred made us go to college,” Tim explained through a mouthful of eggs. “ Jason and I are part time students, and Damian is auditing a couple of courses.”

“I am going to be an animal healer, Father,” Damian said, searching Bruce’s face for any signs of pride. Bruce managed a shocked grimace, which Damian mistook for a proud emotional response, and went back to prattling to Dick about how he wanted to propose to Colin.

Bruce sat back, his mind in a haze as the somewhat muted sounds of Dick suggesting colour schemes and Jason bullying Tim into joining him for cake tasting buzzed around him. How had his family changed this much? How had they become so well adjusted, healthy, and...loving?

Bruce’s thoughts must have gone on for quite some time, for when he came to, the breakfast dishes were cleared away, and Jason was bundling Tim outside. A testy “tt” has Bruce looking down to see Damian standing at his side, looking frustrated.

“Come, Father, it is time to fulfill the first day of school tradition,” Damian said, dragging Bruce to the door. He led Bruce to the main door and stood at the threshold, looking up expectantly at him.

Bruce looked down blankly, and looked back at Dick, who was standing directly behind them, armed with a camera. Kiss him goodbye, Dick mouthed animatedly, gesturing at an embarrassed Damian. Bruce knelt down and met his son’s eyes before pressing a light kiss to his still pudgy cheek.

“Now you have to wish me well, as per the rules of the Guardian’s Kiss.”

“There’s no such thi-“

“Wish Damian good luck for his first day, Bruce,” Dick said shrilly from behind him, his hand suddenly clamping down into Bruce’s shoulder with a vice like grip. Bruce flinched and did as he was told.

“Good luck, Damian.”

“Thank you, Father,” Damian said, nodding reverently before turning to Dick. “Now it is your turn, Grayson.”

Bruce watched in wonderment as Dick swept Damian up and babied him as much as he could before Jason and Tim started howling and jeering from the car.

“Die, juvenile scum!” Damian screeched, freeing himself from Dick and racing to the car to make true to his threat. The car sped off with Tim trying to restrain Damian with a seatbelt and a cleverly hidden syringe of elephant tranquilizer, leaving Bruce with Dick.

“Dick...”

“Come on, Bruce, let’s get through some cases before the kids get back,” Dick said, yanking Bruce back inside. “I’ll get you caught up on Justice League stuff, so you can work your way back in. Then we can look at the local cases, Arkham security, the mob bosses-“

“Dick,” Bruce interrupted, “how did you...” Bruce gestured towards the cave, and then the door through which the boys had just left, “do all of this?”

Dick flashed him a shy smile. “I had a lot of help,” he said demurely, before bouncing back to his energetic self. “We have to hurry! We have to go into town at noon to get the tablecloths for the wedding, and then we have cake tasting at two o'clock!”

“Why are you indulging Damian’s wedding plans to Colin?” Bruce asked incredulously. “They’re ten years old, for Gotham’s sake!”

“Don’t be silly, Bruce!” Dick laughed, “we’re doing this for Jason’s wedding!”

“Come again?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear!” Dick realized. “Jay’s going to marry Roy Harper!”

In that moment, Bruce knew true despair.

“I feel...weak,” Bruce muttered, staggering. The idea of being related to Oliver Queen was enough to shake even the bravest man’s resolve.

Dick just laughed and continued to drag him into the cave, ranting about pastel shades and centerpieces, and other nauseatingly cutesy things that Bruce avoided on principle. Upon reaching the cave, Dick dumped Bruce into the computer chair and showered him with case files before leaving to go and twist his body into impossible shapes whilst swinging between platforms.

As a warm up.

That was how Alfred found Bruce, nose deep in stacks of files and a dumbstruck look on his face. “How is the adjustment period coming along, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked kindly.

Bruce looked up at his butler, his eyes glazed over. Alfred tsked. “Perhaps you should go and join Master Richard in the gymnasium,” he suggested, “hitting and lifting heavy things always makes you feel better.”

Bruce nodded and allowed Alfred to guide him to the gym, where he saw Dick turning himself into a pretzel for Cassandra’s entertainment. He shuddered and headed towards the punching bags, the sound of Cass’ innocent laughter a merry soundtrack in his mind as he proceeded to destroy several punching bags before he headed towards the weights.

He hadn’t realized how much time had passed when he was pushing his physical limits, and soon, Dick was scampering around in a tizzy, getting ready to take the family cake testing. Bruce looked at the clock and saw that four hours had elapsed, and that it was fast approaching noon. It was true what they said - time flies when you’re imagining breaking Darkseid’s face with every punch.

Bruce, Dick, Cassandra, and Alfred met up with the boys at an upscale bakery, where Tim was trying to convince Jason that a coffee cake was a brilliant idea.

“For the last time, no!” Jason said with faux-sternness. “Roy doesn’t like coffee.”

“A heathen!” Tim gasped, before fixating on a funfetti cake. “What about this? It’s fun!”

“A wedding is no place for fun, Master Timothy,” Alfred tsked. “A wedding is a time for tradition and quiet reflection, which is why I urge you to consider the lemon cake, Master Jason.”

“What about red velvet?” Stephanie suggested.

Alfred closed his eyes and adopted a pained expression. “Oh dear.”

“Silence, Brown, you are distressing Pennyworth with your poor taste!” Damian chimed in. “I, for one, agree with Pennyworth. He has decades upon decades of experience, and we should defer to his aged wisdom.”

“Please, Master Damian, I am not even seventy years yet,” Alfred sighed. “As the Father of the groom, you must have an opinion, Master Bruce,” he said, turning to the younger man.

Bruce tensed as the attention of the whole family fell upon him. He was used to commanding a attention as the Batman, as Brucie, the Ditzy Socialite, and as Mr. Wayne, CEO (“ex-CEO”, Tim was quick to remind him), but never as Bruce Wayne, the Dad.

Not that he hadn’t tried.

Now, with all eyes on him, Bruce’s mind went into overdrive, analyzing flavours, textures, sponginess, and creaminess, before settling on one overriding factor.

“I remember this one time that Jason had his first chocolate ice cream. He was ten years old, and he’d just come to live with us. He said that it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Do you remember that, Jay-lad?”

Jason couldn’t help the small, traitorous smile that played on his lips. “Y-Yeah,” he muttered, blushing, “I do.”

“That’s what he said!”

“Oh my god, Steph.”

And that was how Tim wound up paying for a three tier chocolate wedding cake with little dark chocolate roses, because, “roses will never go out of style, Master Jason, and no, there will be no chocolate guns.”.

Tim left to go to work soon after, ecstatically informing Bruce that he was about to demolish LexCorp Safety and Securities in a merger, which left Bruce wondering about Tim’s new sadistic streak. This left Dick to gush about rings and flowers and pastel coloured tablecloths and “little wing, little wing, what about tuxes?”

Jason shrugged his clingy brother off and foisted him off to Damian, who then proceeded to natter about his class that morning. “Did you know that dogs have problems with stress related masturbation? I wonder if Drake has the same issues. Perhaps this is why he seeks out the clone.”

Jason stifled his laughter as Dick carefully tried to explain sexual activity to his little brother and walked ahead of the group, enjoying the breeze and the feeling of being engaged to be married. Eternity with Roy sounded like heaven. Eternity with naked Roy sounded even better.

So engrossed was he in his thoughts of picturing Roy nude, that he didn’t notice as Bruce joined him.

Talk about a mood killer.

Father and son walked in silence for a few minutes, until Bruce went and ruined everything by speaking. “Jay,” he said.

Jason sighed. “Yes, Bruce?”

Bruce fell silent again, before restarting. “Jason,” he tried again, “I may have been a bit...resistant, when I saw what you were doing the other night.”

“No shit.”

“I’m trying, Jay, I really am,” Bruce said sincerely, “but it’s difficult for me to let go.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Jason snorted. “You’re GrudgeMaster 3000. But Bruce, man, you’ve got to learn to embrace change,” he explained. “What we have now is great. I never thought that Dick and I would ever be this close again, but we are. And Tim? He’s amazing. What he’s done for all of us is just...”

Bruce nodded, his throat working furiously. They didn’t deserve that boy, not even if they worked for his love for a hundred years.

“And Damian,” Jason dropped his voice to a whisper so that Bruce had to lean in, “he’s grown so much. Emotionally, there wasn’t much going on physically. He’s forming relationships, he’s showing affection, he’s even planning his own twisted wedding.”

“Now I usually don’t give two shits about you, Bruce, but if you don’t get with this, then-“

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“What about you?” Bruce repeated. “How are you doing?”

Jason came to a sudden halt, which caused Damian to ram into him.

“Todd!” Damian screamed as he went stumbling back into Dick’s arms, pushed back by Newton’s third law and the bounciness of Jason’s butt. “Your arse is like an airbag!”

Jason paid no mind to the enraged puffin, and huffed a pleased laugh instead. “Take a look, Bruce,” he said gaily, spreading his arms out. “I’m on top of the world. I get to go to college, have siblings, pursue my one true passion of handing people their asses, and I’m getting married,” Jason beamed. “Me! Freaking married! I’m going to have it all - a husband, a safehouse, a barbed wire fence, 2.5 bazookas, and a hamster!”

Bruce grinned at Jason’s genuine enthusiasm. “I’m glad, Jay,” Bruce said. “I’m so glad that you get to be happy. At this point, I don’t even care that I’m going to be related to Oliver Queen. I just wanted for you to be content.”

“Hey, You know what a great wedding present would be?” Jason asked.

“What?”

“Joker’s head on a platter!”

“I’m giving you my father’s heirloom pearl handle dagger and a trust fund for your children,” Bruce said sternly.

“Aw shucks, B, you don’t have to do that,” Jason mumbled, flushing a pale pink.

“I’m your father,” Bruce reminded him, “It’s my honour.”

“Gee, way to be sappy, Bruce,” Jason muttered. “Next thing you know, you’ll be walking me down the aisle.”

“I’m not!?”

Jason looked shocked. “You want to? I just never pegged you as the type.”

Bruce crossed his arms determinedly. “I’m embracing change,” he informed his family. “I’ll walk you down the aisle, and I’ll do whatever I have to in order to make you happy - short of killing,” Bruce was quick to add when Jason looked excited.

“Boo, you killjoy,” Jason said jokingly, before looking consideringly at Bruce. “Huh. Maybe it’s a thing in this family.”

“What?”

“You know. Dying and coming back better,” Jason said.

Bruce felt a worrying warmth spread in his chest before he recognized the feeling as happiness. He hadn’t felt that in a while. He hung back and watched his family pile into the minivan to drive to Tim’s office and force him to eat another balanced meal and contemplated on the state of his life now. He had to be the Batman.

He also had to plan for weddings, college and school children, Cassandra’s ballet classes, a ruthless CEO son, puppy love, Dick being emotional, and Alfred complaining about his age.

It was as close to perfect as he could imagine. 


End file.
